So It Goes On
by History101
Summary: AU. Severus Snape survives Nagini's attack and remains at Hogwarts as Headmaster. Told in a series of connected one shots, written in no particular order. Completely ignores Cursed Child timeline. Author sadly owns no rights to Harry Potter.
1. May 1998

Aftermath

Takes place directly after the Battle of Hogwarts.

May 1998

* * *

A.N. For the sake of my own sanity, if no one else's, I've decided to let Fred live as well as Lupin and Tonks; there's only so much disappointment we can take after all. This first chapter is just to explain the AU I'm setting up, so, date wise, it takes place over the whole month of May.

* * *

Standing on the stone bridge in the ruins of the battle, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione in time to see them give him two identical, exhausted smiles.

"There's one other thing I need to," he told them.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow.

"...The Shrieking Shack...I've got to go back."

"What for?!" Ron exclaimed.

"Snape," Harry answered solemnly, "I can't just...leave him there," he said.

"Why not?" the red head scoffed.

"...It's complicated," he sighed, "But...trust me..."

"Harry," Hermione began, "I know...no one deserved to die like that...but he was a Death Eater...he's..."

"No, he wasn't!" Harry cried. "If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't believe it either, but he really wasn't. He was a spy just like Dumbledore always said he was. He gave me his memories...I saw it all. He...risked his life for me everyday...and I never knew."

"Are you for real?" Ron asked, shocked.

"Yeah," his friend nodded, in a similar tone. "I'll show you the memories...as soon as we get him back," he said.

"Alright," Hermione nodded and together, they walked slowly to the Shrieking Shack with Harry telling them exactly what he'd seen in the Pensive.

* * *

At the same time, Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts, walked the halls of the ruined castle, surveying the damage as people did their best to care for the wounded. She watched with a shake of her head, as Argus Filtch, stubbornly kept trying to sweep away the piles of rubble, many of which were were twice his height. He would never ask anyone for help, she knew, especially not when they would need to use magic to.

Not many knew it, save for those to have been the head of the school, or perhaps those who had read 'Hogwarts; A History,' but the building was alive. It had been imbued with the magic of each person to walk it's halls and it had taken on a life of its own, so to speak. She knew that once Snape had fled from the school and she had more or less pointed herself as headmistress, that she would be able to communicate, so to speak, with the castle. However, she had been surprised to learn that it hadn't happened straight away and then it hadn't lasted long either. Minerva had heard the castle's whispered for a short space of time and then it had all vanished like smoke. She couldn't understand it and so she went in search of one man who would.

"I don't understand it, Albus," she said to the portrait in her office, "You yourself said that the castle talked to you."

"It did," Albus Dumbledore's painted visage replied calmly.

"For how long?"

"Since I became headmaster...until the moment that I died."

"It didn't...just stop?"

"Never."

"Then why can't I hear it?"

"This upsets you?"

"It confuses me. I haven't had the chance to question it before now but...I know it's hardly the most pressing issue to be dealt with considering the circumstances..."

"It's not normal though," one of the other portraits replied, "The voice...its presence...it should be there in your mind."

"There must be a reason," Armando Dippet remarked.

"Oh, there's a reason," Dumbledore said, "There must be."

"And? What is it?" Phineas Black demanded.

"I couldn't say," he answered, "Not yet. Perhaps it has something to do with damage to the castle."

Professor McGonagall only sighed as the portraits began to be debate, rather loudly, amongst themselves and they seemed to forget that she was even there.

* * *

The Shrieking Shack, no matter whether it was morning or noon or even a bright night, always seemed to be a place which detested light. It was a loathsome place of creaking floorboards, of dust and grime and mould and now, for the time being, it was also the resting place of Severus Snape.

"He loved my mum, y'know," Harry stated, "He did all this...everything...because he still loved her...after all this time."

"Dumbledore always said...that love's the most powerful emotion," she replied sadly.

"He was right," he said, "He was right," Harry muttered as they came into the room.

It was as they'd left it but to Harry, at least, so much had changed. The blood that covered the floorboards wasn't that of a vicious Death Eater, it was the blood of an extremely brave man who had loved a woman to such an extent that it had changed the very fabric of his being.

"I still can't believe it," Ron whispered, "Snape was good...all this time."

"I've got to tell them...everyone...about Snape, about what he did...or else he'll just be remembered as another Death Eater...as the man who...killed Dumbledore. He doesn't deserve that."

"No...he doesn't," Hermione agreed.

Harry took a deep, shaky breath before turning his attention, reluctantly, back to Snape and a trail of tears began to trickle down from his eyes. He'd thought that there wasn't much left he could lose in the war, he'd already lost his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore and so many others and now he'd lost a protector that he'd never even known he had. Snape had been the bravest of them all to do what he'd done for so long and he'd never received any thanks or praise. It was no wonder the Potions Master had been so irate and solitary when he'd been living the life of a double agent with his life hanging by a thread.

"Well...erm...how're we gonna..." Ron said, taking a breath, "I mean, who's...who's going to..."

"...I'll do it," Harry announced, taking out his wand slowly moving to kneel beside Snape so that he could apparate back to the castle; the anti apparating wards having been destroyed in the battle.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione exclaimed quickly, pushing her friend's arm back quickly.

"What?!"

"He just...professor Snape...I thought he just...I thought I saw him..."

"Hermione, the man had his throat cut and he was bit by a snake, you don't just...ah, I mean..." Ron said, but stopped when she, diplomatically, chose to elbow the red head in the stomach.

At the same time, Harry examined the pale and bloodied face of the Potions Master and indeed, he saw a weak, shallow movement in the severed throat. A quiet, almost inaudible noise, like air through a blocked straw, escaped from between dry lips and Harry let out a disbelieving scoff.

"He is..." he breathed, "He's alive...look, he's breathing!" he took hold of Snape's bloodied arm.

"Don't apparate!" Hermione cried quickly.

"Why? I need to get him back to the castle...the hospital wing...Madam Pomfrey..."

"Apparating takes a toll on the body, Harry, and...well...look at him...I don't think he'll survive if you apparate him anywhere."

"Well, by the time I've levitated him all the way back he could die anyway!" he replied hastily. "I don't have a choice," he said, gently placing his hand on the man's shoulder and disaparating without another word.

Harry brought them straight to the hospital wing and he was instantly followed by his friends. He looked quickly for the matron but amidst the sea of people running about the room, it was all but impossible. There had been so many casualties that the hospital wing was overrun and every room, regardless of its state was being used to either hold the dead or to treated the wounded. The hospital staff were clearly overtaxed and anyone who had even a basic knowledge of healing was being put to use.

One person that his eyes alighted on and how spotted him in turn, was professor McGonagall and she ran over to them at once, her robes billowing behind her.

"Potter!" she exclaimed in shock on seeing just who her student had arrived with, "What on earth..."

"Please, professor...it's Snape...he he needs help..."

"Now wait just a minute..."

"We don't have a minute!"

"I..."

"He's dying...please, I'll explain, just...help him..."

She threw her hands in the air, acquiescing with a sigh as she took out her wand and levitated the dark haired man as Harry ran ahead to search for the matron.

"Minerva!" the matron herself frowned when she and Harry finally found her.

"I've been promised an explanation, Poppy, in the meantime, please...do what you can for him."

"I..."

"Please," Harry begged her and seemingly, her reluctance was swayed enough to do so.

* * *

Hours passed and after many strong spells and potions, Harry watched as the movements of Madam Pomfrey which had at the start been rapid and quick, became sluggish and weak. Snape hadn't woken once and Harry supposed that was a good thing.

Finally, he turned to professor McGonagall, who hadn't left Harry's side in the last half hour.

"The Pensive in your office, I left it out...I saw Snape's memories in it, there'll still be there, won't they?" he asked.

"I...don't see why not, but I..."

"Watch them," he said, "Just...watch them...and you'll understand," he told her and she nodded, turning to leave without a word.

* * *

When she returned, it was with stray tears running down her aged face. She placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled slightly in understanding at him. "I expect," she began slowly, "Once the Ministry discovers that Severus lives...they'll want to arrest him. I'll see that it doesn't happen."

"Thanks, professor."

* * *

Remus Lupin sat beside the love of his life, Nymphadora Tonks and held his infant son in his arms. They, like many before them had tried and failed to coax Harry out of the hospital wing. It seemed that everyone, in such a short amount of time, was now fully aware of what Severus Snape had done. Secrets in Hogwarts never did stay secret for long. Harry didn't particularly care in this instance though. The more people that knew the better, in his opinion.

"Harry, we'll send for you if Severus wakes," he said.

"And we won't let anyone take him away," Tonks added.

"I can't just leave," Harry shook his head.

"Madam Pomfrey doesn't even know if he'll wake up, and if he does I doubt it's going to be any time soon," the purple haired woman told him, ignoring the reproachful glare from Remus. "And...I really think you need a bath, and a change of clothes and a..."

"I get it," Harry sighed, "But I'm still not leaving."

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared to be in charge of rounding up the defeated Death Eaters and his job was almost complete. He and a group of Aurors hovered at the entrance to the hospital Wing as they prepared to arrest the last remaining within.

"Hello, Harry," the tall man said slowly.

"Shacklebolt," Harry inclined his head, sitting up slightly.

"You know why we're here?" he asked and Harry nodded, "Then please, don't make this..."

"I guess people've already told you about what he did...and why."

"Somewhat, but that doesn't change the fact that Severus was a Death Eater. It doesn't excuse any of his crimes. He needs to answer for them..."

"He has already! He almost died, he could still die!"

"Kingsley," Minerva spoke calmly, entering the room. "I don't believe you've seen the evidence exonerating our headmaster," she said.

"I'm sorry...the headmaster?" the man frowned.

"Come with me," she said, leading him away.

* * *

"Albus," Kingsley stared up at the portrait of the former headmaster.

"Hello, Kingsley, my dear friend," the old man smiled.

"It's good to see you," Kingsley said, "But I will be needing an explanation."

"Of course, down to business. I always did admire that about you...and Severus," Dumbledore smiled. "Where should I start?" he asked.

* * *

When they returned some minutes later, the older man waved a hand at the attentive Aurors who exchanged confused glances but slowly, they moved away.

"If Headmaster Snape wakes up, you'll let me know?" he raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"Why?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I will keep my word. If he lives, he will be a free man...if he lives," he emphasise before he left the hospital ward.

* * *

A few days later and the worst of the damage to the castle was slowly being repaired and Harry had either wandered the halls, helping to fix what he could, or he'd sat in the hospital wing, unwilling to leave the Potions Master alone for fear that those around him would finish him off in his sleep. It wouldn't be their fault if they did, they didn't know what he did. Poppy Pomfrey had told him more than once a day, that Snape was unlikely to awake, indeed, the man had stopped breathing several times.

He'd been told that Kinglsley Shacklebolt had been appointed acting Minister for Magic, and that there was to be a large funeral in the castle grounds in memory of those who had died in the battle. THere would be a ceremony to commemorate the dead and then they'd be returned to their families.

It was a sorrow filled, tragic day and not a single person could hold back their tears. Harry, who hadn't been forewarned, was asked to give a speech. He was reluctant at best, but he could hardly refuse.

"There's...one more thing I need to talk about," he said after he'd said all he could think of. "You're probably wondering why Professor Snape wasn't taken with the Death Eaters to Azkaban. You've probably already heard that he was a spy but he didn't betray us. He killed Dumbledore, yes, but...what you won't know is that Dumbledore was dying...he was cursed, he wouldn't have survived the year. He asked Snape to kill him so that Voldemort would trust him completely. I know...it's hard to believe, but trust me, it's all true. The last thing he deserves is Azkaban...so, please...whatever gets...reported or said, just don't believe any of it."

* * *

It wasn't long after the funeral that Harry and many other students and teachers were asked to testify at some of the many Death Eater trials which were clearly just a formality. Harry went intending only clearly Snape's name so that the threat of Azkaban wouldn't hang over him if, when he woke up. But somehow he ended up returning to Hogwarts with an Order of Merlin for himself and one for Snape as well. Both First Class. He left them both in the headmaster's office for another day.

* * *

As the days passed it became clear that people wanted, needed to leave to be with their families and Harry saw Hermione leave to find her parents in Australia to return their memories and he was in the hospital wing when an owl arrived to tell him of her success and of their subsequent holiday for his friend to recover from the battle. He was still in the castle when Ron, Ginny and the entire Weasly family left. They offered to take him with them, but he refused. Fred had been badly injured and George had lost an ear but at least they were alive and safe.

He saw Luna leave to spend time with her father, and Neville with his grandmother. Harry understood and he didn't begrudge any of them, telling them all when they left that that they were doing the right thing.

* * *

As Harry was sitting in the hospital wing, a book in his hand, he heard a familiar trilling sound and he looked up to see Fawkes standing on Snape's bed. The phoenix was crying over the man's wounds and though it began to heal some of the worst, Nagini's venom had been in his system for too long for the tears to heal it all in an instant. But Madam Pomfrey began to use the magical tears on Snape's wounds every day and he began to show a vast improvement.

"What are you doing here?" Harry had asked the bird, gently stroking the soft feathers. No one had seen the Phoenix since Dumbledore had died but here he was, helping the boy who lived keep vigil over Snape in the castle. "Well, I'm glad to see you," he smiled, "You probably saved his life."

The beautiful bird puffed out his chest almost proud of the fact that he had indeed saved the life of the Potions Master.

"Ah, Harry," he'd heard Dumbledore say from one of the portraits.

It was difficult for Harry to get used to hearing the man's voice as though he were still alive, he supposed it was because he'd been raised a muggle. Perhaps people who were raised with the idea of living portraits were more accustomed to them. "Professor," Harry turned around to see the familiar blue eyes, white beard and blue robes.

"I was wondering when Fawkes would return," the man said, "I was rather hoping that he would've arrived sooner...but no matter."

"Why did he come back?"

"Phoenixes value loyalty above all else, my boy," the former headmaster explained. "Severus was loyal to this school and to its people even at the cost of his reputation and his life. I'd be surprised indeed if such a remarkable creature as a Phoenix didn't recognise that."

"So...Fawkes is staying here again? He won't leave?" Harry asked, concerned that the animal would leave and there would be nothing as effective to help Snape get well.

"I don't believe he will," Albus smiled, looking down at the Phoenix which was preening Snape's hair gently with its beak.

* * *

Just under three weeks since the battle, Harry had still barely left his bedside vigil in the hospital wing and he was the first one to see Snape when he finally opened his eyes. To say that the man looked confused was an understatement. He squinted at the ceiling for a minute and felt the sheets of the bed with limp, pale hands. He was still breathing louder than expected but Madam Pomfrey had said that it was to be expected. The man's throat had been sliced open and polluted with venom and dark magic; Voldemort had been very through.

"Professor?" Harry spoke quietly, trying not to startle him, but he did anyway.

Snape's black eyes turned on him much quicker than he'd have expected given how weak the man looked and he seemed to examine Harry's face, tilting his head back and forth on the pillow before coming to a conclusion which made him sigh deeply. "Professor?" Harry repeated. "How do you feel? Oh...I should get Madam Pomfrey..." he began. "Wilpsy," he called out and a house elf appeared within an instant. It was wearing a fine looking robe with the Hogwarts symbol on it. "Find madam Pomfrey would you, and tell her professor Snape's awake?"

"Headmaster Potions sir is awake!" the little elf exclaimed happily. "I be fetching matron, Mister great Harry Potter sir, of course!" she said, vanishing again.

"...Pot..." Snape tried to speak but his voice was quiet, barely audible and he broke off in a fit of violent coughs which shook his body. He curled in on himself as he coughed, clutching at his throat.

"Professor," Harry grabbed a glass of water from the beside table and tried to help the man sit up but he was too busy trying to breathe to even think about sitting up.

"Severus," Poppy ran into the room and waved her wand at the ailing wizard. "Mr. Potter, sit him up quickly," she ordered.

"I can't," Harry struggled, still trying to help Snape sit up.

With Poppy's help, they managed to get the man sitting up and he was able to drink the water left out for him. It was hardly medicinal but it helped to soothe his aching throat and the coughing slowly stopped. He leant back, exhausted, against the pillows they'd propped up behind him and he closed his eyes.

"...How?" he asked simply, his voice so quiet and weak they barely heard it.

"How? How what, professor?" Harry asked.

"...H..." Snape went to asked but sighed wearily at his ailing throat and tried to raise a shaky hand to his neck but he couldn't even do that now. His limbs were too weak to move after his coughing fit.

"Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey began. "You really shouldn't speak yet. It's lucky you can even say one word, let alone a sentence," she said, clearly seeing his frustration. "And please, try not to move too much; that venom had you paralysed for over a week," she told him and in all honesty she was surprised he was awake at all. She left Harry with strict instructions not to let Snape move or speak too much.

"Well, sir," Harry began once she was gone. He first took out his wand a cast a quiet Muffliato around them. "You know, I can't imagine not using that spell...it's really useful," he said suddenly. "But I guess, you know that since you made it...I erm...found it in your potions book," he said, clutching the wand in his fingers.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him and tried and failed to speak again. "Anyway," Harry pursed his lip, not sure where to start. He'd been sat at the man's bedside for a month thinking of just what to say if or when he woke and now here he was, cementing Snape's idea that he was an idiot by mumbling like this. "I erm...Voldemort's dead. I...killed him," he said, "Well...technically, the Elder Wand killed him when his spell backfired, but...yeah, he's gone."

"B...but ...you..." Snape managed to whisper though it clearly took considerable effort.

"I'm...not dead," Harry clarified rather unnecessarily, "I mean, I was...because I let him kill me so I wouldn't be a horcrux anymore but I...I came back."

Snape turned his head slightly on the pillow and found his wand on the small bedside table next to him. He seemed surprised to see it there at all. "Do you want me to pass you your wand, professor?" Harry asked him, "I'm not sure if you should do any magic yet. madam Pomfrey didn't say."

The pale man gestured weakly with his head and after a moment's deliberation, Harry reached for the simple black wand and placed it in Snape's hand. With a silent and weak flourish, a piece of parchment appeared with spidery writing on it and Harry took it.

It simply read ' _Liar_.'

"Liar?" Harry furrowed his brow. "I'm not lying. She really didn't say anything about you not using magic because none of us knew if...when you'd wake up," he said, defensively.

Snape pointed his wand at the paper again and more words appeared. It read ' _You are not real. Potter is dead. I am dead_.'

"I'm not dead, professor and neither are you," the young wizard told him.

' _How_?' The word suddenly appeared on the parchment.

"I erm...after it was all...over, I went back to the Shrieking Shack. I thought you were dead," he admitted, looking over at one of the windows. "But you weren't. So we brought you back here," he said choosing not to mention the fact that people had been frantic about Snape's condition for weeks.

Madam Pomfrey asked the best healers and potioneers from St Mungo's to help the man. He'd been too weak to be moved from the Hogwarts hospital wing and at one point here had been fifteen people there trying to rid Snape's body of the lethal venom it was been poisoned with. Even with the help of a seemingly endless supply of Phoenix tears, it and still taken this long for him just to wake up.

Harry held the parchment up again, watching as more words appeared. ' _Why return to the Shrieking Shack at all_?' It said.

"What'd you mean? I couldn't just leave you there?! Not after everything I saw in your..." Harry stopped, seeing the horrified look in Snape's eyes. "In your memories," he finished quietly, a moment later.

' _What did you see_?' Harry read the words that appeared after a tense silence.

"You don't...remember what memories you...gave me?" he asked.

' _Difficult to concentrate with your throat cut_ ,' was the rather sarcastic, written response and Harry couldn't help but give a small smile. It was so reminiscent of Snape's usual sarcasm that he simply couldn't help it.

"Well...I asked professor McGonagall to take them out of the pensive. They're in a bottle in her...in your office. I know you probably only meant for me to see one of them...but...there was more," he replied, thinking of the many memories that made him see the Potions Master so differently than he ever had before.

' _The Dark Lord is gone_?' Snape wrote, still shocked at the very idea.

"Voldemort is gone," Harry corrected, verbally.

' _Do not say his name_ ,' the pale man visibly shuddered as he spelled the words onto the page. ' _How many dead_?' he asked.

"On our side...fifty," Harry answered him sadly.

' _The Death Eaters_?'

"Most of them were caught and sent to Azkaban. Some of them died. But Rodolphus Lestrange, Macnair and Travers escaped. Shacklebolt's still looking for them. He's the acting Minister," Harry explained. *1

' _Lestrange is dangerous_ ,' Snape wrote, ' _The other two are stupid. He is not_.'

"Doesn't matter; I haven't been looking for them. I wanted to help but Kinglsley said it'd be best if I didn't."

' _They will come after you_ ,' more words appeared suddenly.

"I've been here since...since the battle. Three Death Eaters can't get through the wards...or, so I've been told."

' _The wards were broken_.'

"Professor McGonagall and the others fixed them. But they said you'll need to cast the spells again when you can because you're the headmaster," Harry told him quickly.

' _What_?' Snape wrote. The stoic mask he'd been working on for the last few minutes was shattered again and now he looked both vulnerable and surprised.

"Erm...you're the headmaster..." Harry repeated, slowly. "I told the Ministry that you were innocent so they wouldn't take you to Azkaban...but they can't really sack you, either."

"Y...you...told..." Snape hissed but gave up once he realised that no matter how hard he tried, he just could speak yet.

Both of them were startled when they looked across at the open door to see Minerva McGonagall walking towards them.

She didn't think of herself as an emotional woman but she didn't try and stop the tears from falling down her aged face as she quietly approached Snape's bedside. "Severus," she said, "I was worried you'd never wake up."

Snape only stared at her with dark eyes as though willing her to disappear. He'd never wanted people to know everything. He was supposed to be dead and yet here he was, surprisingly alive, having a civilised conversation with Potter and being hovered over by a crying Deputy Head. What was the matter with them? Had they simply forgotten everything he'd done over the last year?

' _Send me to Azkaban_ ,' Snape tapped his wand against the paper again and Harry looked horrified. McGonagall glanced down at it and she gave the same expression.

"Send you to Azkaban, Severus?!" she exclaimed, "We'd be laughed out of the castle." He furrowed his brow, not understanding her at all. "No. You're not going to Azkaban," she reiterated. "I'll not hear...or read...another word about it and neither will Potter, not after what he did to keep you out of that dreadful place," she sighed, conjuring a chair for herself. "Can you ever forgive me?" she asked him, seriously. "I can't have made your life easy this last year. If I'd known everything I'd never have..."

' _You weren't supposed to know_ ,' Snape wrote, ' _That would've ruined it all_.'

"Yes. Yours and Albus' precious plan," she sighed, "Genius though it was, it feels as though you bore the brunt of it all. I know we haven't always been the best of friends, Severus, but I...I am truly sorry," she finished and Snape looked away.

Aside from being very confused and weak he simply wasn't accustomed to hearing genuine apologies. He was usually the one having to apologise. "Well, we'll let you rest," Minerva said after a moment. She stood and Harry did the same after a simple wordless gesture from her.

* * *

*1 I realise I may be taking liberties here but I did a quick check and I don't think any of the three Death Eaters I mentioned are actually killed in the Battle of Hogwarts.


	2. 31st May 1998

A Reluctant Headmaster

31st May 1998

* * *

Severus Snape spent much of his time in his bed in the hospital wing sleeping, even after first waking up. The potions he'd been forced to take were effective in not only healing him, but in completely knocking him out. When he was actually awake he argued with Poppy about returning to his quarters in the dungeons only to be told that Slughorn was sleeping in them. Horace was still the Potions professor after all despite being told by the deputy head; McGonagall that he could leave if he wanted to. They could find another teacher but he was adamant about staying to help rebuild the castle. Snape didn't understand why.

"You are our headmaster, Severus," Minerva told him as she sat at his bedside that morning, "You do not belong in the dungeons," he'd only scoffed at that.

"I...am no...headmaster," he muttered back slowly. His voice was not returning as quickly as he liked but it was better than being unable to speak at all.

"Nonsense," she shook her head. "I've been talking to Albus about this and we both agree that Hogwarts doesn't recognise me as being headmistress."

"Then...I resign..."

"At least think about this," she sighed.

"No...n...need."

"I won't force you to stay, Severus, and Merlin knows, you've earned the right to do as you please now. But think about this carefully. Take some time. And rest, you need rest..."

"No more...rest..." he hissed back, glaring at her even though she seemed unaffected.

"You always were a terrible patient," McGonagall smiled.

The Deputy Head of Hogwarts had been apoplectic with apologies when he'd first woken up. She'd cried as she'd told him how sorry she was at calling him a coward as he'd fled. At the time, she'd never thought it strange at all that he, being more powerful than she was, had fled from a fight he could have easily won. No one had. They'd been far too busy and no doubt, he been counting on that. They'd heard later that Snape had been severely punished for fleeing the school. His orders had been to kill anyone who opposed him and instead he'd surrendered.

"I'm a...death...e...eater," he replied, "I can't be...Headmaster," he said.

"Hogwarts disagrees...doesn't it?" she asked him. "You can hear it, can't you? Albus said that the castle spoke to him. It only spoke to me when you were...not in a capacity to hear it," she said, diplomatically telling him it was only when he was dead that she was headmistress.

Snape pursed his lip. Even now, Hogwarts was telling him that the structural repairs on the roof of the great hall, which had been classed as a priority, were almost complete and that the work on the courtyard hadn't even started yet. "If I...resign...it will...stop," he said, reaching out a pale and scared hand for the goblet of water on the bedside table. "No parent," he began after drinking the water to help his throat, "Will want...a Death Eater...in charge of this school."

"Severus," Minverva began slowly, as though addressing a student. "You've been pardoned. The entire wizarding world knows what you did. You have an Order of Merlin...and rumour has it you'll have a biography soon."

"What?!" Snape exclaimed, alarmed, sitting up right and then coughing because he'd aggravated his throat.

"Potter tells me that people are very interested in you. So interested, in fact, that someone, I don't know who, is working on your biography," she smiled at him.

"Well, stop them!"

"How can I? No one knows who it is. It's just a rumour," she told him. "But that's beside the point. I came to tell you about the repairs."

"The roof is...repaired," he rolled his eyes, "The courtyard is not."

"Correct," Minerva nodded, happily. "It'll be some time before everything is finished. We'll need a new professor for Defence of course, and a Muggle Studies teacher but..."

"You...do it," Severus sighed, thinking of Charity Burbage.

"I can make suggestions, headmaster. But the decision will be yours."

"Fine," he snapped.

"There was one more thing. It's far too early to be thinking seriously about it, but...some of the seventh years have enquired about returning for another year."

"They know you...want me to be Headmaster?"

"Of course."

"And they still want to...come back?"

"Yes."

"...Why?"

"They understand why you acted as you did and I had to stop most of them from coming in here and thanking you personally. I was rather worried you'd hex them, you see," she said, sarcastically. The majority of the students at least now had a grudging respect for Snape but of course some would simply never forgive him and he understood that.

"Thanking me?" Snape scoffed in disbelief. "I...made their lives...miserable. I threatened them...repeatedly. I don't...believe you."

"Then believe Hogwarts," Albus said, suddenly appearing in one of the paintings on the walls. "It would tell you if the students were discontent. It did so for the entirety of the last year, didn't it? I remember it causing you many a sleepless night, my boy."

"I had...more important things to worry about...than the students 'feelings'," Snape rolled his eyes.

"Yes...you did. But that didn't stop you from adding one more concern, did it?" the old man said heavily.

Severus still hadn't been told, but the staff had been furious with Dumbledore once they'd learned of his plan. True, Snape had never been anyone's best friend, but as much as it pained people to admit it, he'd been steadfast for years. He had the temperament of an irritable dragon but he was one of them. He was a Hogwarts teacher. And he'd spent an entire year purposely making himself the most hated person in the school. He'd had their grudging respect before but they doubted they could have done what he had.

"Albus, you're not helping," Minerva replied and watched the former headmaster leave the painting and disappear. She turned back to Severus with a smile. "Perhaps you'll appreciate something to read," she remarked, gently placing a small stack of papers onto the bed. "Now that you're awake, these need your signature. They're reports for the Ministry about the repairs."

"...Homework, Minerva? Really?" Snape scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, headmaster," she replied, standing up. "I'll leave you to it. I know how much you enjoy paperwork," she said, ignoring the hiss of disapproval from him.


	3. 2nd June 1998

Escape

2nd June 1998

* * *

Harry walked into the hospital wing to find Snape trying to get out of bed. He'd managed to somehow pull his billowing black robe round him as well. His hospital bed was buried beneath a pile of blankets; since he'd woken up he'd been feeling the cold more so than he ever had before. He just couldn't seem to get warm lately.

"Go...away, Potter," Snape hissed at him, the threat somewhat diminished by the fact that his voice was still so weak and he looked so pathetic leaning against the bed with his robes pulled against his bandaged torso.

"Morning, professor," Harry said, unaffected by the dark glare that was sent his way.

Fawkes was resting on a perch that someone, probably Minerva had placed there for him. Poppy hadn't been best pleased at having an animal in the hospital wing but she'd related after a while. "Madam Pomfrey might throw a fit if she sees you moving around," he stated.

Snape's torso was swathed in bandages as well as his arms and his neck and he began, very carefully, to peel away the ones on his right arm underneath the thick, warm fabric of his outer robe. He was tired of feeling and looking like a mummy. "Erm...should you be doing that?" Harry asked.

"I...told you to go...away..." he reiterated but Harry was used to hearing those words now.

The young wizard had been rather disappointed by the fact that the first civil conversation he'd had with Snape just so happened to be the last. Every other time he'd visited since then, the man had been his usual acerbic and vitriolic self. But he didn't complain. He hated been stuck in the hospital too and he doubted that Snape liked looking vulnerable in front of so many people for so long. So, every day, he visited Snape and was perfectly polite and courteous and it seemed to wear the older wizard down, bit by bit.

"At least let me help you," Harry offered.

Snape flinched when Harry moved forwards to hold his arm so he could remove the bandage and Harry winced. "I won't hurt you, I promise," he said but the man only scoffed at him as though daring him to do the opposite. "I know you don't believe me," Harry began as he started to slowly wind the bandage off. "But I'm really grateful for everything you did. And I'm glad you're alive," he said for what felt like the hundredth time.

"...Should've let me...die," Snape muttered at him, "Stupid...boy."

"Don't say that, sir," Harry looked at him, hurt that he'd even suggest it. "...My mum wouldn't have wanted you to die," he said after a moment and he saw Snape close his eyes with a shaky breath.

He finished taking off the bandage around Snape's right forearm and be placed it on the bedside table. Luckily the worst of the puncture marks had been healed by Fawkes' tears but there were still some nasty looking scratches left. At least they'd scabbed over and weren't bleeding anymore though.

"...Emotional...blackmail," Snape stated, slowly.

"No, it's the truth," Harry insisted.

"You...should hate...me."

"I don't."

"...She...would."

"No, she wouldn't," Harry shook his head. "Do you want me to do that one?" he asked, pointing at the man's left forearm but Snape shook his head. "Why not?" Harry wondered, aloud, watching as Snape wrapped his fingers around the still bandaged left forearm. The bandage covered the Dark Mark, he knew. "Is it...because of the mark?" he asked, slowly, "It's still there?"

"Of...course it is," Snape growled, his fingers tightening around his forearm.

"Oh, I guess I just thought, I'm not sure, maybe with Voldemort gone..."

"Don't...say his name," the older wizard hissed.

"Well, have you looked? It might be gone," Harry suggested.

"...It...won't be," Snape stated, resignedly as he held out his arm a little.

Harry once again took off the bandage as carefully as he could only to find that Snape was right. The Dark Mark was still there amongst the puncture marks and scratches, it hadn't even faded, in fact it was exceptionally prominent against the pale skin. "Put it...back," Snape ordered him, after glancing at the Mark.

"But if you don't need it..."

"Just...do it," the man sighed and Harry complied.

"What on earth are you doing?!" madam Pomfrey cried, running over to them.

Snape sighed and rolled his eyes at her and started to remove the bandage on his left hand now. Harry wondered if he was doing that just to spite her. "Severus, I left those bandages there for a reason..." she said, stopping beside the bed.

"Poppy," he growled back.

She gave him the same look he'd been giving her and after a moment she threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine. Fine," she muttered, shaking her head, "Never mind all of the work that went into stopping the bleeding, just take off the bandages because you're impatient, why don't you?"

"Another...thing," Snape began, " I will not...stay here a...minute longer. I'm moving...to my quarters," he said. At least he could light a fire there and keep warm.

"And how are you going to do that?" Poppy asked him, "I doubt you could walk to that door over there, let alone all the way up to your office."

"I'll...m...manage," he rasped.

"I don't know who's worse," the matron muttered, "Between the two of you."

"I'll help him," Harry said quickly, "I'll help him there."

"You still need rest, headmaster," Poppy said to Snape. "I know you like being in the hospital wing about as much as Mr. Potter here, but I don't think you understand just how bad it was. You're lucky to be alive, let alone awake to argue with me."

"Well...he can rest upstairs, can't he?" Harry asked, kindly.

"I suppose so," she sighed, deeply, "But whatever you do, leave the bandage around your neck. I'll be checking on you every day as well."

"Can't...wait," Severus replied and the long suffering matron, stormed out.

"Are you sure you want to leave the hospital wing?" Harry asked him.

"You...can go...now," Snape said, simply

"I said I'd help you and I will. I don't blame you for wanting to leave. I always do, too," he admitted, watching Snape push himself away from the bed to stand up for the first time in over a month. Naturally he was unsteady on his feet. "I erm...I could ask Hagrid to carry you," he suggested, already knowing the answer would be a dark glare. He wasn't disappointed. "Just a thought," Harry shrugged. "Can't you just apparate to your office? You are the headmaster," he remarked.

Snape shook his head, "Not...advisable," he muttered. He'd been sleeping for the better part of a month and he was still exhausted. Apparating when exhausted and wounded was only done in a life or death situation and since this wasn't one of these time, Snape wouldn't risk it. He couldn't fly either because the spell needed concentration and a lot of energy, neither of which he had yet.

"What about a house elf? Can't they apparate you there?" Harry replied as Snape steadied himself with a hand on the bedside table.

"I will...walk," the man insisted.

"...Alright then," Harry sighed and with his Gryffindor courage, he gently pulled one of Snape's arms over his shoulders, ignored the dark glares as he took slow steps forwards. Fawkes circled them just as slowly as they moved through the castle with Snape hardly looking up from the floor at all.

"Where are...you going?" Snape asked him. In his mind he was heading straight for the dungeons despite the fact that McGonagall and Poppy kept calling him headmaster.

"Your office, sir," Harry frowned, confused.

"The...dungeons?" the man questioned.

"No...the headmaster's office," Harry answered, "Your office. I...we can go to the dungeons if you want, I'm sure professor Slughorn would love some company. Some of the potions ingredients were damaged when the wards broke, I think some of the glass exploded or something, so he's been saving what he can...though he's probably finished by now..." he rambled.

"No..." Snape rasped, "Head...master's office...then," he said and Harry nodded.

Harry purposely avoided the main corridors, knowing Snape wouldn't want people to see him aided like this. When Harry saw or heard people approaching them, Snape purposely lead them somewhere they wouldn't be be seen and he quickly took the hint.

The younger wizard had to admire his stubbornness, even when his breathing was making small wheezing and rasping noises, he didn't stop even for a moment to sit down despite Harry's suggestions.

* * *

It took a while but Snape let out a tired sigh when he was finally able to sit down by the fireplace in the bedroom in the headmaster's quarters. Here, Harry wasn't the only one who felt out of place, Severus did too. To him, these were Albus' personal quarters, not his. He'd been using them for a year but that was all he had planned for. He'd never made any changes to the rooms, they were exactly as Dumbledore had left them so that didn't help matters.

Well, he had made one addition to the rooms. He'd added a large, black trunk which was locked magically. It was reminiscent of the trunk Barty Crouch Jr had kept in his quarters during his impersonation of Alastor Moody. It was a fairly large piece of furniture, inlaid with silver and was embossed with snakes. Usually Snape wouldn't have kept something so ornate and odious but it had been given to him by Voldemort himself. The power mad Dark Wizard had gifted them to his most loyal and trusted followers in which to keep their robes and masks. If anyone but the Dark Lord or the owner of the mask tried to open the chest, with or without magic, they would be killed in a most painful way. Which was why Severus had set up a complicated series of wards around it and cast a very powerful _Disillusionment_ charm on it. Only he could see it. He would have disposed of it years ago, but he'd been conceded somehow that the Dark Lord would have somehow known and have used the knowledge to uncover his true loyalties.

The rest of this things he'd either left down in the dungeons for Slughorn to as as he pleased with or he'd simply boxed them up and sent them to his miserable house in Spinner's End.

"Will you...be alright now, sir?" Harry asked him as the previous headmaster's watched on from the portraits. On seeing Harry enter with Snape, they'd followed the two wizards through the main office and into the private quarters via the paintings on the walls.

Snape nodded and Harry pursed his lip. "I erm...I left your Order of Merlin on your desk," the young wizard said. "And I...I think professor McGonagall kept all your letters for you. She had the Auror office go through them in case, well, just in case."

"...Letters?" Snape questioned.

"Yes, didn't she tell you?" Harry asked and he coughed lightly when Snape raised an eyebrow at him, "Right, well, erm...a lot of letters arrived for you...but not just from the Ministry."

"About the...school?"

"Not exactly...sir."

"Then...what?"

"Well...I guess it's all...erm...fan mail," Harry muttered quietly, silently thanking McGonagall for leaving this task to him.

From their portraits, several of the former headmaster's began to chuckle quietly to themselves. They'd been witnesses to the torrent of owls that had arrived brining letters for Severus Snape. "I got some too, so did Ron and Hermione," Harry added, "We didn't bother opening them, doesn't really seem right, does it? We didn't do...all that...for the attention."

Rather than make a snide remark about how Harry was more likely to thrive on the attention, Snape simply breathed out a sigh through his nose and lit the fire with an almost imperceptible wave of his hand. A weak spark ignited in the grate and slowly burned a little brighter by the second. "...Burn...them," Snape instructed after a moment.

"Burn your letters?" Harry furrowed his brow and Snape stared at him, his expression clearly disinterested now. "Alright, okay, I'll...I'll burn them," he shrugged. His response seemed to placate the older wizard and he turned his attention back to the fire. Evidently it was more interesting than Harry.


	4. 31st July 1998

Harry's Birthday

31st July 1998

* * *

Harry's eighteenth birthday was spent surrounded by his friends in the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had prepared a feast large enough to feed an army and suffice to say, that as the day wore on, everyone ate far too much if only to placate the formidable Weasley matriarch.

The small sitting room around the fireplace was not nearly large enough for the everyone sitting there, but they made do. Harry was sat next to Ginny on the floor. Ron and Hermione had managed to commandeer a small chair. Remus, Tonks and their small son were close to the fire on a sofa opposite Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The twins were still trying to explain the purpose of one of their inventions to Fleur while her husband, Bill rolled his eyes at his brothers. Percy was sitting rather awkwardly to the side. Though his parents were thrilled that he'd come, his brothers and his sister, though they loved him, still thought he was 'a bit of a prat.' Hermione's parents appeared to get along exceptionally well with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley so she was relieved at that.

Even McGonagall had sent Harry a book he'd find useful if he still wanted to become an Auror.

As midnight approached, Hermione left with her parents, Luna and Neville left too and Teddy had been put to bed hours ago. He and his parents were sharing a small room in the Burrow's attic. Eventually, Harry was left alone with Ginny once everyone had left the room and he was absentmindedly picking at the remaining food, of which, there was a considerable amount.

"Haven't you eaten enough already?" Ginny asked him with a smirk. Her mother had been unwavering in her efforts to 'fatten' Harry up, claiming that he was far too thin, and he had lost some weight over the last year. It was rather nice to be fussed over for a while, so Harry had eaten as much as he could.

Suddenly, a quiet popping sound startled hem both as the clock struck midnight and Harry quickly drew his wand. But he needn't have been worried. Perched on an armrest next to him was Fawkes with a letter tied to his leg and a small, wooden box dangling from his beak on a string.

"Fawkes?" Harry whispered and the bird trilled gently at him dropping the box in Harry's hands. "What's this?" he asked, watching as the phoenix held out his leg for him to take the letter.

Ginny carefully removed the letter and handed it to him, "Thanks, Fawkes," she smiled at the bird and stroked the flame coloured feathers. "Another birthday present?" she asked Harry.

He set down the box and unfurled the small piece of parchment which had been sealed with the Hogwarts crest. "It's from Snape," he said, recognising the spidery black handwriting.

"Oh," she said.

' _Potter_ ,' it read, simply, ' _Happy birthday_.'

Confused, Harry gave it to Ginny, who was more surprised than confused as she read the simple message. He then untied the piece of string from around the box and what had once been an object small enough to fit in his the palm of his hand, grew to the size of a large shoe box. It was a small, simple chest made of dark wood with no markings or engravings on it whatsoever. There was a small piece of rusted metal on the front to lift the lid and it fell back as though the hinges had been much used.

Inside the box was a mishmash of papers, envelopes and photographs. Harry picked up the first photograph and he saw his mother there. She looked to be about ten years old, perhaps and she was standing next to another young girl.

"It's my mum," Harry stated, quietly. He turned the image over and saw the words ' _Lily and Petunia, May, 1970_.'

Ginny said nothing as Harry began to take things out, individually and examine each one with great care. Some were like the first one he'd seen, taken with muggle cameras and so they didn't move, but there were wizarding ones too.

One that caught his eye was of a smiling family gathered around a dining table. The people there moved. There was a middle aged man he'd never seen before with his arm proudly around a smiling woman. At the table he saw his mother, his aunt and a young Severus Snape. The unnamed woman there looked almost like the images he'd seen of his mother when she was older, so perhaps it was his maternal grandmother.

' _Christmas, 1972_ ,' it said on the bottom. He turned the photograph over and read the neat yet childish handwriting. ' _Sev_ ,' it said, ' _I really hope you don't get into trouble for using your mum's camera. You really shouldn't have. If you do, tell them it was my idea, tell them I made you bring it. Mum and dad loved the photo. They love how it move. Thanks for coming over, it was great but mum says you should've stayed longer. I think she likes you. Happy Christmas, love Lilly,'_

"He had Christmas dinner with them," Harry breathed, " I think that's my...grandparents," he told Ginny.

Harry became so engrossed in the photographs as the minutes ticked by. that he didn't notice Ginny tactful exit. It wasn't that she'd grown bored, it was simply that she felt like an intruder.

Just as he didn't notice his girlfriend leave, he also didn't notice that he spent hours just sitting on the floor, taking out each scrap of paper and examining each photograph. He eventually fell asleep, lying in between the mess around him and was only woken up when Remus came down with Teddy early in the morning.

"What's all this, Harry?" the tired looking father asked.

"Erm...birthday present," Harry explained, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and starting to gather up the photographs.

Teddy exclaimed happily when he saw that Fawkes was still in the room, still using an arm rest as a perch with his eyes closed. "From Fawkes?" Remus asked, sarcastically.

"From Snape," Harry corrected with a smile. "I thought you'd gone," he said to the bird who blinked open his great eyes and tilted his head as if to contradict Harry statement.

Remus knelt down with care and began to help Harry in piling up the papers but when he saw a young Lilly on a moving photograph standing proudly beside a small snowman, he stopped. "Severus sent you these?" he clarified.

"...Yeah," Harry answered and Remus smiled kindly as he resumed his task.

"I see," the man said once they were done clearing them all away. "And, Harry, I've been meaning to ask...going back to Hogwarts for another year..." he began.

It seems that Minerva McGonagall, on hearing some of the seventh year students ask to return for another school year, had taken the idea and ran with it. Letters had been dispatched about a week ago from the Deputy Headmistress to all seventh years leaving the choice entirely up to them. If only a few wanted to return they would be able to but it would in no way affect anyone who didn't.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, honestly," Harry told him. "I want to go back, I love Hogwarts and technically, I missed out on my last year...but the Auror office said I could go for training if I wanted. But I don't know if I should considering I missed out on a year of school."

"Something tells me, the Auror office would make an exception."

"I don't want to be an exception, Moony. I want to be an Auror because I've earned it like everyone else."

"And you haven't?" Remus asked, in disbelief. "You're more than capable of passing the Auror training, Harry, but I'm sure it would wait a year if you went back to Hogwarts."

"...Yeah, that's what Hermione said."

"Perhaps you should talk to Minerva," he suggested, "Or Severus; he is the headmaster."

"I don't think he'd want to talk about this kind of thing with me," Harry sighed.

"Why not?"

"I just...he'd probably just get bored," the young wizard sighed. "He was glad when I left the castle...said I was acting like a mother hen or something and he's probably got enough to deal with anyway. I'll just send a letter to professor McGonagall."

"If you say so," Remus shrugged. "But it was nice of him to send you this, wasn't it?" he asked, looking down at the box in Harry's hands. The young man hadn't even noticed he'd been holding it until now. So he stood up on legs that protested at his having sat and slept on the floor all night, and placed the box on the nearest table.

"Yeah, it was," Harry agreed.


	5. 10th August 1998

Letters

10th August 1998

* * *

Harry really did love the Burrow. Aside from Hogwarts it was perhaps his favourite place in the world. He was sat in the garden with Neville, Luna, Harry, Ron, the twins, Ginny and Hermione in the mid morning sun.

"I get it, Harry," Neville sighed. "I really do, but it doesn't make it any easier. Last year was...miserable. It was horrible. I'm not sure I want a repeat of it all," he said, tossing a piece of paper onto the grass. It was one of the letters that each seventh year student had received from McGonagall about returning for another year of study.

"It won't be like that," Harry assured him.

"I'd love to go back," Luna said, smiling. "But it depends on how quickly dad gets better. I couldn't leave him alone if he's still unwell," she explained.

Xenophilius Lovegood had been imprisoned by Death Eaters in Azbaban, so naturally he'd been ill treated. Though he'd betrayed Harry to the Death Eaters to save his daughter, Harry couldn't find it in him to be angry with the eccentric man. He was a father protecting his daughter, how could he question that?

"How is he?" Hermione asked, kindly.

"He's certainly better than he was," Luna smiled at her.

"Well, what about you three?" Neville asked Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Didn't the Ministry offer you jobs...it was in the Prophet," he explained.

"Yeah, they did," Ron answered. "Said we could go for Auror training if we wanted. Mum's not too keen on that though; reckons we've had enough of tracking down dark wizards. But I dunno what else I'd do," he admitted. "Fred and George said I could work with them in the shop, too," he sighed.

"Of course you can, Ronniekins," Fred smirked.

"We need a lab rat to test out a new batch of love potions," George added.

"Git," Ron growled, shoving his brother on the shoulder.

"Being an Auror's what I've wanted since I came to Hogwarts," Harry said, "But I want the year I missed out on first."

"Yes," Luna began, "Technically, we finished our final year, but you missed it. That must not have been easy."

"I'm going back," Hermione declared.

"Course you are," Ron rolled his eyes, "Can't keep you away from the library, can we?"

"You don't have to go if you don't want to, Ronald," his girlfriend replied and the twins snickered quietly. They knew as well as everyone else that if Hermione was returning to Hogwarts, then by default, so was Ron.

* * *

Hours later, Remus joined them in the garden with Teddy in his arms. The boy was happily deposited in Harry's waiting arms while the older wizard conjured a chair and sat down.

"Something wrong?" Harry asked him, watching as Teddy began to eye the garden gnomes which were hiding behind the bushes, curiously.

"Tonks is nervous," Remus explained, "So I'm out here hiding."

"Why's she nervous?" Ron asked, "Does she have to go back to school too?"

"Severus is coming," the man said and Ron visibly blanched.

"He is? Why? I sent a letter to McGonagall, did you..." he wondered if Remus had ignored what Harry had said the other day about going back to Hogwarts.

"To see me, he says," Remus shrugged, handing a small piece of parchment to Harry.

' _Lupin, I'm told that you're residing at the Burrow. I will speak to you there at quarter past twelve this afternoon. Leave the Floo open_ ,' the note read and it was signed with a loopy double 'S' signature and stamped officially with the Hogwarts crest.

"Blimey, rather you than me," Ron muttered. As much as he believed Harry when he said that Snape was on their side, the Potions Master wasn't exactly the definition of a light wizard and he could still be intimidating as hell.

"It only just arrived," Remus said, chuckling at Ron's attitude.

"It's almost midday, now," Hermione remarked.

"Bloody hell!" Ron grumbled, jumping to his feet, "I'm off."

"Sit down, Ron," his girlfriend rolled her eyes.

"So, what's Tonks doing?" Harry asked, listening to the occasional raised voice of her or Mrs. Weasley or Tonks herself from inside the house.

"Well, her and Molly," Remus began, "They're cleaning."

"Cleaning? What for?" Ron frowned.

"For when Severus arrives."

"Don't think he'll care 'bout a clean house t'be honest," Ron replied, "Wouldn't have thought Tonks'd care, either."

"You know what mum's like," Ginny shrugged.

"What's he coming here for anyway?" Ron asked suddenly and winced as both Hermione and Ginny sent very light stinging hexes at him. "Hey!"

"He can come and go as he pleases," his girlfriend replied.

"Yeah...but..." the redhead grumbled.

"I don't think he's left the castle since...well," Harry began, "It'll be good for him to get out, anyway."

"I still think he's angry about that Order of Merlin and he's only coming to curse us all," Ron told them.

"Ronald," Hermione sighed.

"It's your fault, Harry," Ron continued. "You were only supposed go in, clear his name, and walk back out again, but oh no, that wasn't enough was it? You had to get the dungeon bat a First Class Order of Merlin. He's probably gonna chop us up and use us for potion ingredients!"

"Honestly," Hermione shook her head.

"What?!" he snapped back while Harry repressed a smirk.

* * *

At exactly a quarter past the hour, Snape stepped out of the Burrow, having emerged from the fireplace without a trace of soot on his clothes. He was wearing his usual thick, flowing, black robes over a black frock coat and white shirt. His neck was still bandaged and it was clearly difficult for him to button up his high collars over the still tender skin.

He was followed out of the house by an animated Molly Weasley and Tonks. Thankfully, they'd not yet asked why he'd wanted to use the Floo but the truth was he simply didn't want to risk apparating so far yet.

From what Harry had seen and heard in the hospital wing, Snape had lost a lot of weight that he hadn't had to lose in the first place over the last year, but robes added a lot of bulk to a person. Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall had joined forces to get the man to eat more and to take his medicine. It had been rather funny to see the two women fussing over the emaciated, pale man like bossy, powerful mother hens who were unaffected by his dark glares and scowls.

"...Think he heard me?" Ron muttered.

Remus only gave him a small smile as Snape walked over to them. He looked rather out of place in the light and airy green gardens, like a stubborn shadow in front of the colourful, rustic home of the Weasley's. He probably knew this, but he didn't let it show, instead he looked confident striding along, glaring at the gnomes around him as if daring them to come any closer. They didn't. They kept their distance. They'd been annoying everyone lately. They'd approach people and tug at their clothes, try and steal their shoes or their food if they chose to eat outside and they seemed to be able to resist a de-gnoming better than ever before.

"How come the gnomes don't annoy him?" Ron asked, watching as they proceeded to tug at the hem of mother's dress and at the perpetually untied laces of Tonk's boots.

"They know better than to annoy Snape," Fred remarked with a smirk.

"Hey, Gred, what potions need gnomes brains?" George asked.

"Or gnomes blood?" Fred added.

"Or gnomes fingers?"

"I dunno, Forge," Fred said, "Maybe Ronniekins should ask him, since he's so interested in potions today."

"We could ask for him," his twin suggested, happily.

"Don't!" Ron uttered as Snape made it over to them.

Remus conjured him a chair made of dark wood which looked just as out of place among their ramshackle, white wood furniture as Snape did in the garden. Tonks sat beside Harry and Teddy on the grass and Molly vanished back into the house.

"Morning, Severus," Remus said, not expecting a reply. He remembered from his year as a Hogwarts teacher that Severus was not a morning person or even an early afternoon person and this only served to enhance his reputation as a night owl, or as the younger students thought, a vampire.

He'd been warned by almost every other professor when he'd started that the Potions Master was even more grouchy than usual in a morning, until he'd had at least two cups of strong coffee. Clearly the man had not had those two cups of coffee yet. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?" he asked, knowingly.

"...No," Snape replied, simply.

"No coffee?" Remus asked, surprised. "Alright then...you, erm...you wanted to talk to me about something," he prompted.

Snape gave the werewolf a slight nod and he took a small, rolled up parchment from his robes and it floated over to Remus. "Read it," the pale headmaster replied, simply.

Remus scanned the document quickly and after a few minutes he looked up with a look of stunned disbelief on his face. "You're giving me a job?" he whispered.

"What? What job?" Tonks exclaimed, snatching the parchment and reading it to herself.

"Why?" Remus asked him.

"Don't you want the job?"

"Of course I want the job," the werewolf said, "I'd love it, but what about...I thought I..."

"I doubt the Ministry would protest to a war hero," Snape lightly sneered at the term, "Working in a school."

"But I'm..."

"A werewolf," Snape finished for him. "I am aware," he added slowly.

"Defence! Great!" Tonks exclaimed happily, looking up from the paper. "Say yes, Remus!" she nudged his shoulder.

"I just...can't, I can't, Severus. Everyone knows what I am this time. They might not mind now, but after a few months, people start to worry and I'll just be told to leave. It's not worth the trouble. Find someone else," he said, despondent.

"But you were a great teacher," Harry told him.

"If you refuse this job, what other work will you do? Work in an old, muggle book shop in the middle of nowhere, perhaps?" Snape asked, shrewdly.

"How did you..." Remus began but stopped with a smile. "Of course you'd know about that," he said, quietly. For a while, Remus had managed to find work in a run down muggle book shop run by a nearly blind old man. The pay had been terrible but at least it had been something. "But I'll find something, I always do. It's good of you to ask, but...Severus...why me?" Remus asked, genuinely confused. "After...everything...why me?"

"Because there is no one else," he answered slowly.

"I find that hard to believe," the werewolf replied.

"Not my problem."

In fact, it very much was his problem. Ideally, a Headmaster should have solved his staffing problems much sooner but in this case, Severus hadn't. Ideally, he wanted to teach Defence himself but it was probably for the best that he didn't. Minerva had mentioned Lupin early on when they'd been reviewing who to hire, but he'd blatantly refused. Severus refused to hire one of the people responsible for much of his childhood misery. But, as the days passed he was left with few options. He knew that it would be easier based on the fact that Lupin was now a war hero but he was still a werewolf. Parents would object at some point just as he knew they would object to a Death Eater Headmaster. If he was going to ruin what was left of his reputation, why not do so throughly?

And, of course, Lupin had saved his life recently.

He'd been, once again, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's medical advice and he'd wandered out to the newly commissioned memorial of those who had died in the battle and then he'd paid his respects at Dumbledore's tomb. Despite the old man's assurance that his soul would remain undamaged by what he'd done since he was only doing as he'd been asked, Severus had never believed that. Albus Dumbledore had been the one person to give him a second chance and he'd murdered the man that he'd sworn his loyalty to. He'd been struck, not for the first time, with an overwhelming sense of guilt. He'd really only intended to visit the memorial and then return to his dark rooms to brood but the guilt had been too strong to ignore. He'd somehow ended up out by the Black Lake and had eventually collapsed, and with his body's weakened immune system, he'd caught hypothermia fairly quickly. Hypothermia was fairly easy to cure with magic but his body had been through so much already, that Poppy had wondered if he'd recover at all.

Lupin and Potter had been the ones to find him by the Lake. In his mind, hiring Lupin, enabling the man to raise his child would clear his life debt. But of course, he already owed so much to Potter that letting the boy have the werewolf around for his final, repeated, year was just another cross he would have to bear.

"You don't...owe me anything, you know," Lupin remarked, delicately.

"In that case, you accept?"

"I never said that, I just...will you let me think about it?" he asked and Snape stood up.

"A week," the Headmaster said, "No more than that."

"Oh, Severus," Molly came out of the house carrying a small tray of food. "You have to stay for dinner. Minerva said you can't have any coffee and Poppy said the sugar won't do you any good either..." she said and watched as the twins and Ron chuckled to themselves. "And we all know how much you need your coffee..."

Fred and George listened and tried not to laugh, they really did but it was just to funny trying to imagine Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey stopping Severus Snape, ex-Death Eater, double agent and bat of the Hogwarts dungeons, from drinking his coffee. So naturally, they burst out laughing and Hermione and Ginny stared at them in horror. "Shut it," Ginny muttered at them.

"Professor," Fred began much to the horror of his sister and his mother, "I'm sure we can sneak you a coffee or two out here."

"All we ask is not to ban our products in Hogwarts for a year," George finished for him, but the man's silent glare was practically screaming the answer 'no'.

"Six months, then," Fred suggested but Snape's expression didn't waver.

"Fred, George," Molly scolded, glancing at Snape warily. She balanced the tray expertly on one hand and with a flourish of her wand, one of the garden tables floated over next to Snape and she placed the tray on it.

Molly Weasley and her husband had been some of the few people who had genuinely wanted to trust Snape after he'd changed sides and that had always struck him as odd. He'd made no effort to endear himself to people, especially people in the Order that their genuine goodwill always surprised him, even now.

Snape took one look at the tray of food and sighed. "Poppy has recruited you for her campaign, hasn't she?" he asked the red headed woman.

"W...whatever do you mean?" Molly asked.

"This," he pointed dismissively at the dark berry smoothy which he'd seen enough of in the last few months to last a lifetime. "Has essence of dittany in it," he said then pointed at the muffin. "Rosemary, sage, thyme...and herbal tea," he finished after gesturing to the banana on toast topped with herbs and the mug of tea and honey.

"I told them you'd know," Molly admitted, throwing up her arms in defeat.

"I don't need another nurse maid," he said.

"I'm not trying to be a nurse maid, Severus and neither are Minerva and Poppy. They're worried about you. You're not eating enough, you..."

"I'm fine," Snape rolled his eyes picking up the mug of herbal tea with a resigned expression.

Molly clearly didn't believe him but she wisely chose not to verbally disagree.

"How are the repairs going, Severus?" Remus asked him, diplomatically, "Will the castle be ready in time?"

"...Most of it," Snape answered, after a moment.

"What's left?"

"The courtyard. The battlements. The important work is done. The Great Hall should be finished before next week."

"That's good," Remus replied, relieved. "And I was wondering...the students coming back...the eighth years. Where will they stay? How's it all going to..."

"It's a little late to be asking about that now, Lupin," Snape scoffed. "I can't simply tell forty students that they can't return after all."

"Forty people are coming back?" Harry asked, "Last I heard it was only...about ten."

"Well, now it's forty three," the headmaster stated. "If you don't want the added students, simply say so and return that parchment."

"After everything we've been through, d'you really think the idea of teaching fourty more students than before is enough to put me off?" Remus asked with a smile.

"Where are we going to stay though?" Harry asked Snape. "There won't be enough room in the dormitories, will there?"

"You did receive the letter, didn't you, Potter?" Snape sighed. "There will be a meeting which you are all advised to attend in just under two weeks. Everything will be explained to you," he recited.

"I know," the young wizard replied, "And I'll be there. I just thought, maybe...you could tell us something."

"Why should I? I'm not your personal owl."

"Oh," Harry sighed. It was difficult for him most of the time to try and get along with Snape. He wanted to. He really did. The man had been his mother's best friend so clearly she'd seen something in him worthy of befriending. Snape had spent half of his life trying to atone for his mistakes and he'd saved Harry's life more times than he could count. But Snape could be so difficult to talk to and he could still be viciously cruel even though he could tell the man was trying.

"Severus," Molly whispered, scolding him like a child. He honestly missed the days when he was feared sometimes. Now people seemed to think he was a complete and utter pushover.

"What?" he hissed back and she gestured to Harry's despondent look and he absently waved his wand at blades of grass at his feet. Snape sighed and pursed his lip before he spoke again.

"...There's not much to tell...yet," he admitted. "Nothing's been finalised. It's been an administrative nightmare. You can't stay in your house dormitories because there's not an even split between the four houses. Someone will complain eventually. They could be expanded but considering that there was far more important work to do, it seemed rather irrelevant. And people are changing their minds about whether or not they want to return every day."

"And you can't choose anywhere until you know how many people will come back," Remus said in understanding.

"I wasn't expecting to be inundated with owls about this every day," Snape said. "By the time I've found somewhere even remotely suitable, more letters arrive and it makes all my work useless."

Harry stared at him, surprised the man had answered him so honestly and in so many words.

"That's why the meeting is so close to the start of term," Hermione surmised.

"Correct," Snape replied, tearing off a piece of the muffin and eating it with a look of distaste.

Just as he was putting down the muffin and turning his attention to the toast, the small, feline patronus of Minerva McGonagall seemed to pounce out of nowhere and settled at his feet. "Severus," it spoke, "The representatives from the Ancient Monument Guild are here to see you. I get the feeling that this is why you left the castle so suddenly. I found their letter on your desk and Albus said that your reaction to it was so comical, I'm sorry to have missed it. I left them reviewing the repairs to the Great Hall but they're none too happy about the state of the courtyard. You'd best come back...and do try not to call them wrinkled old dunderheads again, we do need their approval after all," it said and then vanished in a swirling, light blue mist.

Fred, George, Ron and Harry began to chuckle and even Remus and Molly were fighting to hold back their smiles.

"Wrinkled old dunderheads?" Tonks chuckled, looking up at him.

Snape expertly looked as stoic as ever when faced with their smirking faces. "That was the polite version," he replied, calmly and that was what set them all laughing uncontrollably.

"What on earth did they do to deserve that?" Remus asked him, smirking.

"Have you ever met people from the Guild of Ancient Monuments?" Snape asked him, patiently.

"No."

"Well, then, simply put, they are aptly named. They **are** ancient monuments. The youngest member is a hundred years old and he has a rather annoying habit of calling me 'boy'."

"I see," Remus said, still smiling. "Anything else?"

"They wanted the floor of the hall to be yellow and the walls, green," Snape told them with an exasperated look.

"And...they're supposed to, what? Protect ancient monuments or something?" Harry asked, "By making them look ridiculous?"

"It seems so."

"The floor's not yellow is it?" Hermione asked, horrified at the idea.

"No," the headmaster answered and she seemed relieved.

"So, what'd they want this time?" Harry wondered just as McGonagall's patronus returned.

"Severus, really, you can't avoid them all day again," it said.

"Watch me," he muttered under his breath, taking a bite out of the toast. At least this piece of food didn't appear to repulse him.

"Master Wilkinson will file a complaint about us if you don't come. And then all the work will have to stop and you know we can't afford any delays," it finished, disappearing again.

"Shouldn't you go?" Remus asked him but the man seemed to be in no hurry at all to move.

"I wouldn't," Ron muttered and Hermione lightly swatted the side of his head making Teddy laugh and clap his hands.

Snape finished his slice of toast and picked up a second piece after drinking more of his herbal tea when, once again, the patronus arrived. It tugged at the hem of his long robes and glared at him.

"Severus Tobias Snape!" McGonagall sounded furious now. "Merlin help me, if you leave me alone to deal with this, then I swear, I'll send an army of cats into your precious potions lab..."

"Not mine anymore," he grumbled, biting into the toast while Fred and George snickered quietly.

"Please, Severus, don't do this. You cannot leave me at their mercy! They make jokes about wainscotting for pities sake!" she begged rather dramatically. "Just come back and explain to them what's left to finish and I'll get Poppy to drop your coffee ban. I swear on Merlin's beard, I will," she finished and at this, Snape actually raised an eyebrow and looked up. His expression was one of deep concentration simply at the prospect at being given 'permission' to drink coffee again that it was more comical than the image of him calling anyone a 'wrinkled old dunderhead.'

Severus stood suddenly, a piece of half eaten toast in his hand and stalked off back to the house, heading for the fireplace.

"Severus," Remus called after him. "Come back tonight. I'll have an answer for you," he said when his wife kept nudging his leg and looking over at Snape's retreating form. The man gave no indication of having heard him though, but Remus knew that he had.

"Did...did we seriously just see Snape run off for coffee?!" Ron asked them all.

"I think we did," George grinned.

"And it gives me an idea, Forge," his brother replied.

"Me too, Gred. I think we need some coffee based jokes in the shop, don't you?"

"Oh, yes!"

* * *

That evening, a rather smug Severus Snape was sitting on the porch outside the Burrow with an almost empty mug of coffee in his hand. He was sitting across from Remus Lupin who, not five minutes ago, had handed the signed parchment back to him in acceptance of the job offer.

Severus was both relived and apprehensive that Lupin had accepted the job as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It was one less thing he now needed to worry about for the moment, but in the not so distant future, it would probably cause him no end of worry.

To complicate matters even further, he'd agreed to Minerva's idea of letting Tonks work as Lupin's assistant when he was recovering every month, so both of them plus their son would be living in the castle. It wasn't unheard of for young children and families of professors to live in the castle, but it certainly hadn't happened in several years. Mainly because none of the professor had had any young children; Snape had been the youngest professor in decades until Quirrell had been hired.

"You can still change your mind, you know," Remus said to him.

Snape said nothing as he finished his coffee and then set it down on a small, wonky table next to him. "Wrong," he told the werewolf eventually.

"Wrong?" Remus repeated, furrowing his brow.

"This is a legally binding contract," Snape said, making the minutest of gestures with his eyes towards the parchment next to his empty coffee mug.

"Of course," the other man nodded, knowingly, "But thank you, anyway."

"Don't you have an infant to care for?" Snape snapped at him.

"He's asleep," Remus answered. "...By the way, Harry liked your present," he remarked, "He was up all night looking at those photographs."

The dark haired headmaster said nothing, but Remus wasn't at all surprised. He considered it fortunate the Snape was speaking to him at all since he still clearly resented him. "Has he said whether or not he's returning to Hogwarts?" the werewolf asked.

"No," Snape answered, monosyllabically.

"He says he wrote to Minerva," Remus continued.

"He did."

"But he didn't tell me what he wrote or what her reply was...Do you know anything about it?"

"Why would I?"

"Maybe...you could talk to him about it," the werewolf suggested and Snape scoffed, "As headmaster, I mean."

Snape only scowled in response. Minerva had been saying the same thing since she got Harry's letter but he'd said that since she was the Deputy Headmistress, he was able to delegate tasks to her. This was one task that he wanted her to deal with. But when all was said and done, he had rather grudgingly agreed to remain headmaster, and so, if a student wished to speak to him, he couldn't really refuse.

"I'm sure he'd be grateful," Remus added, watching as Snape grimaced slightly. The werewolf found it slightly ironic that the man who had acted as a double agent for years, had lied to Voldemort repeatedly and risked his life to protect the child of a man he truly hated, couldn't even talk to that same wizard that was twenty years his junior. "You know, Harry told the Ministry you were the bravest man he'd ever met," Remus told him.

"Be quiet, wolf," Snape hissed.

Fortuitously, Harry chose that moment to walk out holding two steaming mugs and went to give one to Remus.

"I was just heading in, actually," he said, standing up. "Goodnight, Severus, night, Harry," he added, giving the younger wizard a gentle smile and a knowing wink when his back was turned to Severus.

Snape quietly growled at him for his interference but Harry naturally thought that it had been meant for him. "Erm...I'll just leave these here for you, then," he put down the two mugs on the wonky table between the two chairs and turned to leave.

"Sit," the headmaster spoke.

"What?"

"Sit down, Potter," he reiterated.

Harry sat down in their chair which Remus had just vacated and picked up one of the mugs of warm coffee. Snape didn't seem to be in any hurry to speak as he stared out into the garden, watching the gnomes fighting amongst themselves. Some were throwing pinecones or small stones at each other now.

"How are you doing, sir?" Harry asked after a tense few minutes, not knowing why he'd been told to stay if the man wasn't going to say anything.

"Better," Snape replied, brusquely.

"And, erm, how did the meeting go with the Ancient Monument Guild?"

"...They are...displeased with me," the man said. His voice was beginning to sound a little hoarse so he took a sip from the new mug of coffee and coughed lightly.

"Why?" Harry frowned. "Did you...erm...call them, y'know...dunderheads?" he asked, chancing a glance over at Snape to see an almost imperceptible twitch of his lip.

"No," he answered.

"Then why..."

"Doesn't matter," Snape shook his head.

Harry fell silent again as he drank his coffee. He finished the whole mug before the gnomes fight had ended and the winner was running around happily, waving his arms in the air. "Talk," Snape said, suddenly.

"...About?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"The Auror Office," he clarified.

"Oh...that...well, the Ministry said I could join the Auror Corps. I'd have to go through the training first but..." Harry began and he found it rather difficult to stop. "I mean, I wanted to be an Auror and everyone expects me to be one. I don't know what else I'd do really."

"You realise..." Snape began. "That there will be those who will use you as nothing more than a poster boy for the Ministry. They've already done so," he said, and he was right.

Harry had been given little peace from a certain group of reporters and politicians. He'd wanted to keep the public appearances to a minimum after everything he'd been through. He'd agreed to attend the Death Eater trials if he was needed and he'd been there to defend Snape to the Ministry too. But he'd also been asked to speak almost daily to the press and some politicians wanted him to visit the Ministry on virtually a daily basis as well. Naturally, he'd refused and the Order had set up a complicated system of wards around the Burrow to give Harry and his friends some much needed peace and quiet.

"Not everyone's like that...but...yeah...I know," Harry admitted.

When he'd been at Hogwarts, watching over Snape for weeks, it had been easy to ignore things happening outside the castle, but when he'd left for the Burrow it had become increasingly difficult. Being at Hogwarts was almost like being in a bubble where the world didn't matter, until the war had worsened of course.

"However," Snape continued. "If that is what you want to do, you will simply have to endure the fame," he said.

If it was anyone else who had spoken, Harry would have said that they were being sarcastic. Over his years at Hogwarts, Snape had only ever spoken to him in anger, contempt or with scathing sarcasm. Surely Snape wasn't trying to be funny.

"Yeah, I love being 'famous Harry Potter'," he scoffed, "Probably about as much as you love being 'famous Severus Snape'."

"I don't recall," Snape replied without without hesitation, "Asking you to inform the Ministry or the Prophet about anything I've done."

"Well, I couldn't just...not tell them. They would've sent you to Azkaban!"

Snape sighed and rubbed at his left forearm subconsciously; he hardly realised he was doing it most of the time. But Harry wasn't the only who had seen the action, Minerva and Poppy had too. They thought the Mark was somehow hurting him but Severus wouldn't say one way or the other.

"What I meant to say," Snape said after taking a quiet breath to reign in a much more snappy retort, "Was that if you wish to become an Auror then you should do so regardless of what anyone else tells you."

"Really?" Harry started at him, surprised. "But what about going back to school?" he asked.

"Naturally, as headmaster," he gave as light sneer at the term, "I should stress the importance of education. But there doesn't seem much point since I was also the headmaster when you missed out on that education..."

"But that wasn't..."

"So, I shall simply say that if you can defeat the Dark Lord without finishing a final school year, then you can perhaps live without it. If that is what you wish," Snape finished, pointedly ignoring Harry's interruption.

"...Oh..." Harry muttered, surprised, "Well...what if I wanted to go back?"

"Then do so. The Auror Department isn't going anywhere, is it?" Snape asked with a slight shake of his head.

"No, I don't suppose it is," Harry snorted, "Thanks, professor."


	6. Early June 1998

Guilt

Early June 1998

* * *

Severus Snape had tried many times over the last few days to escape from his own deputy headmistress. She seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere and was also very determined to see his health improve. He didn't understand why. No matter how many times he disregarded her advice or her care, it just didn't seem to make any difference. Nothing could change the mind of such a steadfast and headstrong witch once her mind was made up.

"It's the least I owe you," she'd explained more than once. "You're my colleague and my friend. Things will get better, Severus and so will you."

The way that she'd said it had implied that he had little choice in the matter anyway.

Every day and every night she sat with him to eat, sometimes long after the food was gone and even after the sun had set, she kept him company. At first, he'd been at his most vitriolic. He hadn't asked for any company. He didn't want any company. He wanted to be left alone. He'd had to move every portrait from his bedroom to stop Albus from doing the same.

Sometimes, he believed, the idea of a wizarding portrait was just too cruel. The person to whom he'd sworn his absolute and unwavering loyalty, had died by his own hand and he now had to face that smiling old face everyday. A face that showed not even a trace of animosity. The old man's portrait was just as kind as ever to him. In fact, he frequently lectured Severus on how his guilt was misplaced and that he was so very thankful that the younger wizard had survived.

"Severus, my dear boy," Albus would say. "Things may not have happened exactly as we predicted, but on this account I am extremely happy indeed to have been wrong. That both you and Harry are alive is far more than I could ever have hoped for."

Typically, Severus would scoff at such a remark and then, as usual, Albus' portrait would smile at him kindly and patiently. It was a twisted form of punishment. He preferred it when his days were full of hated glares and cruel words, both of which he deserved. But this, this he couldn't accept.

He had killed Albus Dumbledore, no matter the intention or their plan, it was simply a fact. And now people were telling him that he was a hero? That he was brave? It was laughable. And the idea that he should stay as headmaster was just as ridiculous. He had to put a stop to it. He should leave the castle, return to Spinner's End and just be forgotten about. He said as much to Minerva almost every night and each time, she had an answer ready for him.

Tonight was no different.

"You're an ill man, Severus," she said, taking a sip of her whiskey as she sat by the warm fire in his quarters. "You've proven that you are incapable of caring for yourself when you are ill."

"You can't keep me here...against my will," he hissed, his voice better than it had been but still weak. "I won't be made to continue as headmaster...simply because you wish it! I do not wish it!"

"I won't be headmistress," Minerva replied, calmly, "How can I take your place knowing what you've done for this school?"

"Don't ask this of me," he said, "I won't do it...I can't do it."

How could he possibly face a lifetime of being headmaster? Of taking the place of the man he'd killed? It was unthinkable. It was wrong.

"Albus thought you could."

"Albus is...dead," Severus sighed, "Because I killed him! Don't you...understand?!"

"And Albus' portrait is where you will see it everyday," she nodded, slowly. "I do understand. But it was what he wanted. What you did meant that dozens if not hundreds of people lived. The Ministry has not attributed any blame to you for anything..."

"The Ministry," he sneered, "Are the least of my concerns. I am not afraid of the Ministry, nor am I afraid of the threat of Azkaban...It's no more than what I deserve."

"Well, thankfully, Potter disagreed and so did those at the hearing. You're a free man, Severus, it would be a sorry waste of your talents to simply disappear."

He said very little after that, he always had hated repeating himself and they sat in silence for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next morning, a few hours before sunrise, meaning that he'd gotten very little sleep again, Severus was awake and he'd dragged himself out of the castle and down to the memorial that had been made in honour of the fifty people who'd died in the battle. The least he owed those people was to stare at each of their names, commit them to memory and apologise. Many of them had been children; children that he'd meant to be protecting as headmaster.

He then made his way to Dumbledore's grave and before he knew it, Severus had fallen to his knees and he found himself crying silently. He'd been unable to mourn the loss of the greatest light wizard of the age because he'd been so deep in emery territory. One false move and their whole plan would have been for nothing. Everything had to be depressed and hidden but now it didn't need to be.

The loss of Albus Dumbledore was one that Severus felt very deeply and not only because he'd been the one to kill the old man. For almost two decades, Albus had been the only person he'd ever been able to talk to without hiding anything. Yes, at times, he'd hated the man, he'd certainly hated his plans, but Severus had rejected him and he'd considered Albus a friend. He'd had only two friends in his life and both were dead.

It became simply too much to bear so he left the grave and made his way to the Black Lake.

The giant squid seemed content enough as its tentacles flailed in the air, rising above the water occasionally almost as if it knew he was there. It had been a while since he'd walked by the lake. Before the war had worsened, he'd spoken to the Merpeople often and they brought him potion ingredients from the bottom of the lake. He'd been rather reluctant to learn the language at first, he'd claimed that it was a useless skill but Dumbledore had, as usual, gotten his way. Years before Harry had first attended the school, Albus had used it as an excuse to spent time with him, to talk to him without there being something related to the return of Voldemort. He'd only encouraged Severus to learn when he'd spoken of the rare herbs that only the Merpeople could reach.

He didn't speak to many magical beings around Hogwarts, but he genuinely liked the Merpeople. The centaurs had their heads stuck too high in the clouds to hold any decent conversation. On occasion there were vampires prowling the forbidden forest, but even he was not desperate enough to seek out a blood drinker for the sake of a conversation. When they weren't hungry, vampires were actually rather interesting, but the risk was too great.

Dumbledore had been fond of the Merpeople too and they'd spent quite a lot of time together as he'd learned their language. Severus didn't know if he'd ever speak to them again now that the older wizard was gone.

A strong shiver wracked his body for well over a minute without warning even though it was only the start of July. He was wearing his thick robes, a frock coat and a white shirt, not to mention the layer of bandages he needed now. And yet, he was still cold. He noticed it whenever he strayed too far from a fire. He just couldn't seem to keep warm. Not even the warmest fire could completely ward off the cold but it certainly helped. Out here, there was no warm hearth. He'd given no thought to it when he'd left, but perhaps he should have.

For, if he had, he wouldn't have ended up collapsing when he tried to stand up sometime later. It was after dawn, he'd just watched the sun rise over Hogwarts, he'd stood to return to the castle and everything had blacked out. He remembered landing the ground, the pebbles and stones made for an uncomfortable bed, but he didn't have time to protest.

* * *

When next he woke, Severus was in his bed, in the headmaster's quarters, and he was blessedly warm. There was a fire burning from across the dark room and he was buried beneath a pile of blankets in his very comfortable bed.

Poppy must have had a medical monitoring charm set up to tell her when he was awake because shortly after, he was being lectured by the stern matron about how very stupid he was. He'd been lying by the lake, completely vulnerable, for forty five minutes before Harry and Remus had found him. That didn't sound like a long time, but with his dramatically damaged body and his weakened immune system, courtesy of Nagini's venom, it had been more than enough to give him a serious case of hypothermia. He'd been asleep for another week during which time, Poppy feared that he might not wake up again.

After being thoroughly and embarrassingly lectured by both Poppy and Minerva, a silent Harry Potter entered the dark room. For a moment, Snape was wondering whether this was lecture number three, complete with Lily's green eyes, here to guilt him into not leaving the castle again.

"How are you feeling, professor?" Harry asked. "Never mind," he added when the man only stared at him. "Sorry, it's just...we were all really worried, we thought you..." he trailed off.

With nothing to say, Severus found himself wishing to simply be left alone. He didn't understand Harry's constant attempts to be civil. But after a while, they'd worn down his resolve to keep his distance, after all, it wasn't every day that people turned a blind eye to his brusque manner.

"...I merely went for...a walk," Severus sighed, "I am told that I am...a free man. I am allowed to do as I please."

"You weren't...leaving?" Harry asked, quietly.

The older wizard rolled his black eyes and Harry sighed, relieved. "He told me not to tell you," he began again after a moment, "But Remus found you, out by the Lake. He had to levitate you all the way back."

"If the wolf told you not to...tell me, why are you?"

"His name's Remus," Harry declared. "I know why you don't like him and I understand...but he's not the same person he was when you were both in school. People change."

"And I should...forgive and forget?" Snape scoffed. He'd heard this argument too many times from Dumbledore, so he had no desire whatsoever to hear it yet again. Although, on hearing that the werewolf had saved his life, did this now mean that he owed a life debt to yet another of his childhood tormentors? It wasn't something that he wanted to consider and yet, he had little choice. Wizards took life debts very seriously, after all.

"I just..."

"Get out," Severus sighed. "Leave me be, Potter," he said, and surprisingly, Harry did as he was told.


	7. Early November 2003

Prince Manor

Early November 2003

* * *

Evanora Morgana Ada Prince was a hundred and seven years old. She'd seen the passing of almost her entire family; her parents and grandparents, her childless younger brother, and two stillborn children before her only living child, Eileen had died as well. Now she was alone. The last of the Prince family. Well, almost the last.

She was pale and her once ebony hair was pure white, her thin face, lined with age and her eyes were tired and sunken. She did not have the face of a kindly old lady. She had a rather sinister face actually. Lying propped up in her bed, a fairly grand, four poster antique made of dark wood and hung with frayed curtains, covered in blankets, she looked like an unhappy, sinister caterpillar.

Her bedroom itself was almost completely dark. The thick curtains closed against the mid morning, winter sun and the candles were few and far between. There was however, a fire burning in the grate and it was quite a large fire, too. It didn't help that the room, like the entire manor, was painted with a dark colour above the wainscotting.

Standing at the far end of the room, was the old woman's legal representative. A thin, sour faced wizard in an traditional Victorian style suit. Next to this man, was an old woman in a matrons' uniform sitting down at the small table by one of the windows. They showed no signs of leaving the family reunion to its privacy and Evanora didn't even look at they, let alone dismiss them.

Severus Snape, wearing all black, melted into the shadows, save for his pale face and hands as he sat in a chair to the right of the old woman. He'd been sat there for several minutes but his maternal grandmother had yet to say even a single word to him and hadn't said a word to her either.

A few days ago he'd received a letter, not from Evanora, but from her solicitor. It had stated simply and without hesitation, that the old woman was not expected to live out the week and that it was in his best interest to visit and then to live in her home until she passed. So, after much deliberation, here he was. He'd left the running of Hogwarts to Minerva McGonagall, telling her only that he had been called away on an urgent matter.

But if he was expected to remain in a room to be stared at and studied by an old woman he'd never before met, she had another think coming. He stood to leave, tiring of their silent staring match when suddenly, the woman snorted at him.

He spun slowly, narrowing his eyes at her when finally, she spoke.

"Three minutes. You've got more patience than your mother had. Sit down," she croaked in her aged, withered voice. But he made no move to sit back down. "Sit down, headmaster," she sneered in a mocking attempt at politeness.

"Why?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, "So that you can test my patience again?"

"So I can talk to you without getting another ache in my dying neck, you stupid boy," Evanora snapped.

It was with great effort that Snape managed to keep from sneering back at her as he sat back down. "I expected," she continued, seeming content that he'd obliged, "That you'd ask me 'why'. Why I never sought you out, not once in all these years?"

"Why would I need to ask," Snape replied, calmly, "Something to which I already know the answer?"

"Oh?" she asked, raising her own silver eyebrow much like had just done, "And what is that you already know?"

"...I am a half blood," he stated simply and Evanora made a hissing sound of disapproval. His mother had told him many times about her family's pure blood ideology, which she herself believed, but that had made it even more confusing to him as to why she had married a muggle and produced a half blood child.

"Muggle filth," she grumbled. "If I'd have had my way, he'd have been disposed of and she'd have been dragged back here by her hair and made to marry someone decent."

"A pity then, that you did not have 'your way'."

"A great pity!" she exclaimed. "And now, we're all that's left. A dying old woman and a filthy half blood...a shameful waste."

"Tragic," he said, sarcastically.

"At least," Evanora continued, irrespective of his comment. "She did right by us and taught you the proper ways of magic. At what age did she teach you your first dark spell?"

"Eight."

"...Acceptable," she nodded after a moments' thought. "You can always tell a dark wizard. It's in the...the attitude," she said haughtily.

He chose not to reply and with a slight incline if her head, she gestured over the silent man from across the room. "You," she addressed the man, "Over here," she ordered. The man didn't seem offended at this so perhaps he was used to her rudeness. "Give him the papers," she said once he'd walked across to the bed.

"Here," the man said, holding out a thin, leather bound folder with what appeared to be a coat of arms on the front.

"And this is?" Severus asked, taking the folder front him.

"A standard inheritance contract," the man answered.

"Inheritance?"

"This house, its contents, the house elf, and the Prince family vault in Gringotts Bank. The contents of which, are considerable," he answered.

"I was lead to believe that my mother and I were disinherited."

"You were," Evanora said, "The minute that she married that muggle, I disowned her. By extension, you were disinherited at birth. I'd hoped that perhaps she'd return once he was dead, but she always knew how to disappoint me. She had to die first, didn't she?"

Once again, Snape held his tongue.

He'd never been particularly close to either of his parents and he'd been seventeen when his mother had died. Too old to be classed as a child. She'd been left alone in her bedroom with her husband drinking in the living room, in the same house, without knowing. Tobias Snape, during his son's lifetime, had spent much of his time drunk, so it was with little surprise that Severus had returned from Hogwarts for the summer holidays to find his father comatose on the floor. Neither was it the first time he'd had to make his own way home from the train station. But he'd been the one to find his mother's body when he got back. Tobias hadn't even realised that his wife had been dead in her bedroom for at least two days.

"I don't trust politicians," Evanora continued, bluntly. "The last thing I want, alive or dead, is for this house to fall into the Ministry's greedy hands. Putting it simply, it's the Ministry or you. I'm told it's highly unlikely that I will live to the end of the week and seeing as today is Friday, if you would do me the very great kindness," she hissed, "Of remaining here until it is certain that I am dead, it won't take up too much of your valuable time."

Severus knew that she wasn't asking him to stay because she wanted someone to be with her at the end. She wasn't asking because she wanted to get to know him whilst she could, either. It was standard procedure for pure blood, wizarding families. In theory, it usually made for a swift and relatively smooth succession from one head of the family to another.

He gave her a silent nod of affirmation and she weakly managed to call for the house elf called Sabey, dressed in old rags. "This half blood is to be your new master," she told her, simply.

"Yes, mistress," she chimed. "Sabey will be showing master to a room, mistress," she said after and Snape was lead to a bedroom down the corridor.

* * *

Severus didn't leave the bedroom he'd been shown into. He spent the afternoon in there, he'd eaten his meals in there and he read into the early hours of the next morning. He was at least thankful of the large bookshelves that seemed to litter the entire house. It was perhaps the only redeemable feature about the place.

When he awoke before breakfast, he walked around the grounds and looked on at the manor.

It was a very depressing, imposing and unwelcoming place made entirely of gray stone with a Gothic arch over the huge, black front door and grimy, mullioned windows. The garden was overgrown and the ivy bad begun to swallow up the walls of the building. It was built around a fountain, which from the look of things, hadn't had any water in it in decades with the pathway stretching out to the massive, wrought iron gates gates at the front.

It wasn't, Snape saw, nearly as large as Malfoy Manor, it was less than a quarter of the size, but it was just as foreboding. If the Malfoy seat had ever reminded him of anything, then it was a mausoleum and as he stood outside Prince Manor, he wondered if all wizarding manor homes were designed to look that way.

Much to his surprise, he'd found what had once been a plentiful herb garden but had long since been left to its own devices. It overlooked an equally wild and dense forest with the family cemetery to the far end. His mother was not buried with them. She'd been buried in little more than a paupers' grave at a small church in Cokeworth. He remembered that his mother had always wanted to return home but her pride had never permitted it. She had made him promise once, that when she was gone, he would at least ask her parents to bury her at the family grave.

He'd dutifully written and received no response.

* * *

Two and a half days passed in which Severus hardly spoke to anyone. He had no reason to. His grandmother did not ask to see him. He had no reason to speak to the old woman's matron or her legal advisor. And he scarcely saw the house elf unless she was bringing him his meals. Fortunately, solitude was not something that bothered him.

But, at a quarter past two on Sunday afternoon, Evanora died. As per her wishes, Severus was told by her, now his legal advisor, that there was to be no funeral. The house elf buried her body in the cemetery not ten minutes after she'd breathed her last. The master bedroom in which she had died was cleared of all traces of her within an hour.

"That's everything," Worthington the legal advisor said to him that afternoon after he'd explained the minor legalities of Severus' inheritance.

It had all been straightforward and quick. Pure blood families like the Prince's tended to deal with legalities as quickly as possible and that was very evident here. It was fortunate that Severus was not an overly emotional man and that he hadn't been attached to the deceased, for the whole preceding had been done with no thought to emotion. Only practicality. As it was, that suited the situation perfectly.

* * *

Severus was very much a minimalist in his attitude, his magic and his habits. If he was asked to box up a lifetime of belongings, it really wouldn't take very along at all. There was little in his house at Spinner's End that he took with him to Prince Manor. He supposed he could have sold the manor, but in all honesty, Spinner's End repulsed him. It had done for many years now. It felt as though his home, as much as he hated it, had been stained by the Death Eaters that had visited him there at the end of the war. Bellatrix Lestrange had been one of them. Wormtail had been another frequent and unwelcome visitor.

He'd been looking for a new house for some time but he'd never really committed to the idea. After all, most of his time was spent at Hogwarts and it had everything he needed. But he, like the other professors, admitted that on occasion, it was necessary to get away from the castle; living in the same place as you were employed was convenient but not always conducive when it came to staying sane.

So, after sorting through his books in Spinner's End, he removed anything remotely magical and sent it on to the manor. He didn't look back once he'd left.

The house could rot for all he cared.


	8. 10th September 1998

Masks

10th September 1998

* * *

Severus was sat in the secluded living room in the headmasters' quarters. It was a relatively large room, the walls were lined with books, the floor covered with old rugs and a warm fire wasburning in a stone hearth which provided the only source of light. The thick curtains were drawn across the small windows of the tower room and it was silent save for the cracklings of the fire and the occasional clink of a glass being refilled.

The castle was still undergoing repairs but the majority was done, with the help of magic of course. The new school year had begun on the first of September, as always, despite the on going repairs. It had been a much debated topic, in light of all that had happened, whether or not it was prudent to open the school mere months after the end of the war. In the end, it had been decided that it was for the best. Life must go on to honour the dead if nothing else.

It was only the tenth day into the first school term but already, Severus had earned his reputation as an elusive headmaster. He was still recovering after all, but part of him knew that he was simply too ashamed, too cowardly to face the students. It had taken hours of cajoling and debating to convince him to even show his face at the sorting ceremony. He'd felt like an imposter throughout the whole thing but he'd tried not to let it show. He expected students to shout 'How dare you stand where he stood?!' just as Harry had in the great hall. He couldn't face that again. Perhaps he really was a coward.

So instead, Snape had become an expert at managing his work from his office. He hardly ever left it. Even when convalescing. It had been a choice between the Headmaster's office and Spinner's End. Both were poor choices but he never wanted to see Spinner's End again. There, he was haunted by his horrid childhood and of memories of the park or the forest nearby where he and Lilly had played. There, he had been visited by servants of the Dark Lord to pass on his orders and it served to remind him of everything he'd done. But here, in his office, he was haunted by Albus, literally haunted by the man's portrait.

"You missed dinner again, Severus," Remus Lupin, professor of Defence remarked, entering the room with Harry behind him. He'd hoped that by bringing Harry with him, the pale man might do more than simply shoot vile hexes at him until he was forced to leave.

"Go away," Severus sighed, not looking up at them.

"People need to see the headmaster, Severus," the man said.

"He's over there," he waved a pale hand over at the portrait where Albus had been staring in disapproval at him for the last hour or so.

"Professor..." Harry began.

"I don't want to hear it," Snape warned. "Just leave me be," he demanded.

"You need to eat," Remus said kindly, sitting down and lighting some candles and lamps with his wand. It cast the messy room in soft, amber light.

There were books strewn across the room, pieces of parchment littered the floor, some covered in spidery black writing and others screwed up and singed as though they'd been burned in anger. Some glass had been smashed against a wall and there was liquid around it as well.

"This liquid diet of yours isn't exactly advisable," the shabby professor shook his head as he picked up a decanter of Fire Whiskey from a small coffee table next to the Chesterfield where Severus was reclining. It was one of three decanters, and two were empty.

Next to them on the table was a mask and Harry found himself drawn to it. It was beautiful in its own way, which was a rather distorted thought considering that it was, unmistakably, the mask of a Death Eater. It was silver with a long, elegant nose, small slits along the mouth and elaborate, swirling patterns lightly embossed along the surface. It was less ornate than many of the masks Harry had seen before, perhaps it was the most elegant, but it was still a symbol of Voldemorts' power.

"Is this...yours?" he asked, slowly. He looked over at Severus who gave him an almost imperceptible nod without meeting his questioning gaze. "Why'd you keep it?" Harry asked, frowning. He traced an uneasy finger along the rim of the mask, and turned his attention back to the still silent man before the fire. "Why not just destroy it?" he reiterated.

"I...can't," Severus confused after a moment and took a considerable swig of of his drink.

"Why?"

Without saying a word, he held out a pale hand and the mask flew into his palm, leaping straight out of Harry's hands as though it detested him somehow.

"Each mask was made...specifically for each of us...with a particularly dark spell. They have our magic in them," he answered ominously.

"That doesn't explain why you won't destroy it."

"Because it is me, you dunderhead," Snape snapped. "The stupid, eighteen year old me that knew bloody well what he was doing but didn't give a damn about it."

Harry began to believe that the headmaster had had enough to drink, otherwise he doubted he'd be divulging so much information or using words like 'bloody' and 'damn'. It seemed that Remus agreed with him as the man looked across at him uneasily. "My magic made this...thing. I made this thing," Severus sneered down at the mask in his hands. He closed his eyes after a minute and threw the mask to the floor. It clattered loudly against the stone and Harry went to pick it up.

"I think..." he began, "You'd be better of destroying it."

"If you think you can...go ahead," Snape muttered and Harry stood still a moment. He stared at the mask and then tossed it into the burning fire. "Fool," he muttered, not yet opening his eyes.

Harry watched as the mask landed in the grate and frowned when it seemed remarkably unaffected by the flames. It hissed and spluttered for a moment before it leapt out of the fire as though possessed to land right at the feet of its owner. After a moment, Snape's black eyes opened to see it there with an unsurprised expression and he then curled in on himself, lifting his feet up from the ground to rest on the Chesterfield sofa, away from the mask.

"Objects imbued with dark magic cannot be so easily destroyed. You've still a lot to learn if you want to be an Auror, Potter," he said.

"It can't be burned..." Harry whispered to himself. "It's not like...like a horcrux...is it?" he asked, reluctantly.

"...Somewhat," Snape answered quietly.

"It is?!"

"I said somewhat," he rolled his eyes. "It is not a horcrux. But it is an object of dark magic...my dark magic."

"Severus," Albus spoke sadly from one of the portraits. "Please...my dear boy..." he begged.

"One more word and I swear, Albus, I'll turn your bloody portrait around and leave it there with a permanent sticking charm!" Snape yelled, raising his voice for the first time. When he stopped shouting, he broke off in a brief coughing fit, clearly talking for so long was not helping his throat.

"I say!" Phineas cried indignantly from another of the portraits.

"That...goes for you...as well, Black," Snape growled at him.

"I really can't wait for you to leave. This last year has been terrible with only you for company," Phineas spoke, haughtily.

"Now, really, Phineas," Albus protested and he was joined by the other portraits, but they were ignored.

"No, I must speak my mind. He really has been the worst headmaster to ever grace these halls. I don't much care for his attitude or his behaviour."

"His behaviour saved this school!" one of the former headmasters cried.

"Here, here," the others agreed.

"You're all fools. And you, Snape, you foul mouthed, little half bl..."

"Enough!" Severus bellowed, hurling his tumbler at Phineas' portrait with an impressive accuracy that surprised Harry and Remus. "Get out! All of you! I don't care where you go, just get out!" Snape ordered them. "I am in charge here...and I order you to leave!" he reiterated when they made no more to vacate the portraits.

They usually stayed in the main office, but when Severus had moved into the more secluded living room, they'd followed him. But now, unable to disobey such a direct order, they left the portraits empty and returned to the main office. "You too," he added, glaring at Dumbledore, "I've heard enough of your disapproval."

"Severus..."

"Go!" he yelled and with a sigh, Albus left too.

Severus slumped back down on the sofa as though whatever angry energy he'd managed to muster had simply vanished. He reached out a hand over to the table and searched along its surface and then growled, remembering that he'd smashed his glass. He fumbled for his wand and wordlessly conjured another identical tumbler then filled it with whiskey.

"Do you think that's wise?" Remus asked him, quietly.

Severus said nothing, in fact, he gave no outward sign of having heard him speak at all as he finished off the Firewhiskey in his glass once more. "How much of that have you actually drank today?" Remus asked.

"...Not nearly enough," the pale man answered after a tense silence.

"I disagree," the professor stood suddenly and vanished both the glass and all three of the decanters with a wordless flick of his wand.

"Minerva sent you...didn't she?" Severus drawled, not phased in the least.

"She's worried about you," Harry said, "We all are."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying," the young man furrowed his brow. "No one's ever seen you like this, it's..."

"I didn't ask you to come here," Snape hissed, "And I'm certainly not...asking you to stay, so..."

"I want to learn Occlumency," Harry blurted out, suddenly and Snape actually turned to look at him in surprise.

"...What?"

"I mean...I want you to teach me Occlumency. Will you?"

"After what happened last time?" Snape demanded.

"I knew it was important then...and I know it could still be important now. I want to be an Auror and it could save my life. When I fought you, after..."

"You mean when you tried to fight me."

"Yeah," Harry rolled his eyes. "When I **tried** to fight you," he stressed the word. "You knew what I'd do before I even did it," he said.

"Of course I did. I tried to teach you the importance of shielding your thoughts but you didn't listen to me. I tried to tell you how important it is to use non verbal spells but, again, you didn't listen. You have an open mind and an open mouth. Either one alone could cost you your life, but combined, your death may as well be assured," Snape said, heavily. "However...the Dark Lord is gone and you are not," he added before Harry could protest.

"Doesn't mean I won't need to know how to Occlude in the future."

"No, it doesn't. But not all Aurors are skilled Occlumens," Snape said. "And there are certainly other people who could teach you. Minerva has some knowledge of the skill."

"I asked her about it. She said what she knows is more practical and that you know more about it anyway. And, well, you lied to Voldemort for years..."

"Don't say his..."

"He's gone. The name doesn't matter anymore," Harry said.

"It does to some of us," Snape muttered, clutching at his left forearm.

"And Dumbledore told me the you're probably the most powerful Occlumens in Europe," the young man continued, ignoring Snape's comment.

"Well, if Dumbledore says so," the man grumbled, sarcastically.

"Who taught you? How did you learn?"

"I leaned from a particularly vindictive Death Eater and he taught me as I tried to teach you...but I suppose you merely thought that I was being unnecessarily cruel," Snape answered, shrewdly.

"You really leaned like that?" Harry asked, softly.

"That is what I just said."

"I always assumed Dumbledore taught you," the young man admitted.

"He didn't," Snape said.

"Surely, Voldemort would've known if one of his followers was teaching another how to shield his mind?" Remus asked, intrigued.

"The Dark Lord," he began, pointedly, "Always thought that our skills were beneath his own. He knew that we had Occlumency shields certainly, but nothing to worry him. He believed that it was an indulgence."

"And...why did another Death Eater teach you?"

"Because I taught him to brew the most untraceable and the most lethal poisons...many of them of my own design," he answered with surprising honesty. "He probably killed dozens, if not hundreds of innocent people with the knowledge I gave him. But I believe...he died in an explosion caused by his own inept brewing skills...eventually."

"An unfortunate accident?" Remus raised an eyebrow and Snape gave him an almost imperceptible smile.

"An accident...perhaps. Unfortunate...debatable," he replied rather ominously. "You think my lessons were harsh," he said to Harry, "Yours lasted no longer than two hours a night, once a week, mine usually lasted for at least seven hours and took place five times a week. And the lessons I gave him, always before hand, took the same amount of time."

"But..."

"I don't see why I should even attempt to teach you anything," Snape interrupted him. "You showed little to no improvement the first time even when it was clear that it wasn't only your own life on the line..."

"Well, maybe if I had more instruction other than 'concentrate' and you trying to rip my mind open, I might learn more," Harry snapped before he could stop himself.

"You still don't understand," Snape sighed, "You wear your heart on your sleeve. You are ruled by your emotions. You are no more suited to Occlumency than your classmate Longbottom is to potion making."

"It's just...hard. I can't pretend that I'm perfectly calm when I'm not. And anyway, I blocked Voldemort out by doing the opposite," Harry said, confused. "If I tried to repress my emotions, it didn't work, but if I focused on...happier memories, it seemed to...repel him."

"Repelling a person from your mind and blocking them are two different things, Potter," Snape sighed. "The Dark Lord dislikes...disliked...emotion. He was repulsed by your emotions not deceived by your shields as he should have been," he explained.

"Why can't I do that with any other Legilimens?"

"It will allow people to see your weaknesses, in this instance...anyone who appears in a pleasant memory and it will make them a target. You are not casting a patronus...If you're going to advertise your greatest secrets in an attempt to shield your mind, you might as well not bother."

"Well, then how do you do it? You feel. How can you...not?"

"It's not about feeling nothing. It's about making others think that you feel nothing."

"...There's a difference?"

"Of course there is," Snape rolled his black eyes, "Hiding your memories and your emotions doesn't change the fact that they exist...but it means they will never be used against you."

"But..."

"What worked in repelling the Dark Lord will not work on any other Legilimens. Do you need me to prove that to you?"

"Erm...no...sir," Harry muttered. Remembering their previous lessons. He knew it was true. The emotions had never forced Snape from his mind before.

"Then what do you expect me to do?" the headmaster demanded, looking over at him only to be met with pleading green eyes that were so familiar, he turned away instantly.

"Just...let me try again," Harry all but begged, "If I can't do it within...a month...I won't bother you about it again." Snape simply looked at him disbelievingly as he continued. "Okay...two weeks, just give me two weeks...if you're well enough, I mean..."

"Of course I'm 'well enough'," the man snapped quickly, "But two weeks might not be enough time...for you to master even the basics...Two years might not be enough."

"Maybe," the young wizard conceded.

Snape sighed and leant back against the sofa. "If you want to see any improvement in just a fortnight, you'll need a lesson every few nights," he remarked.

"Okay."

"At least an hour...perhaps longer."

"Fine."

"You'll need to clear your mind every night as well."

"Okay."

"If only you were this agreeable the first time I tried to teach you," Snape grumbled to himself.

"I'll...erm...try harder this time," Harry said. He knew that it if he'd had better instruction then maybe he'd have understood the discipline more, but Snape had had his own problems at the time and the man's life had been far from easy, so it was best if he didn't get angry.

"...Eight o'clock tomorrow night, Potter. Don't be late," the headmaster said without looking at him.

"Thanks, professor," Harry replied, taking that as his cue to leave.

As he was leaving he heard a quiet chuckling sound. "Not one word, Albus...that goes for you too, wolf," Severus growled but the chuckling didn't stop.


	9. 10th August 2006

DADA Assistant

10th August 2006

* * *

Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, respected member of the Wizengamot and a still surprised recipient of the Order of Merlin, was sat in the Headmasters' office, his office, across from a pile of papers, staring across at Remus Lupin.

"You want an assistant?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Remus nodded.

When he'd first been hired, his wife had been his acting assistant while she and their son had been living in the castle. But as their son grew, Tonks had since found a job of her own and Teddy had gone with her. They'd been able to buy themselves a small cottage which they'd dreamt of doing since the war. But it had left Remus without an assistant and so the task of teaching his missed lessons had more often than not, fallen to Severus.

"Why?"

"Frankly, Severus, I think I need the extra help. I know you've noticed...it takes longer for me to recover every month, more than it used to. I'm old..."

"We are the same age, Lupin," Severus scoffed, "And I have just as much work as you."

"You have far more work than I do and you look younger than me anyway," Remus smiled. "I know it's because of the potions," he said quickly before the pale man could speak and, indeed, he was right.

Severus looked ten years younger than he was and for the first time in all the years that Remus had known him, the man looked healthy. The end of the war, the truth about his years as a spy becoming known despite his protests, had been good for him. It also helped that the potions he had been forced to take for years to combat Nagini's venom had long lasting, regenerative effects. There were still occasions when he needed them now, even after eight years but he wasn't nearly as dependant on them as he had been.

"This assistant," Severus began, leaning forwards, resting his arms on the desk, "I assume you have a candidate in mind."

"I do," Remus answered.

"And?"

"He suggested it actually..."

"...It's Potter, isn't it?" the dark haired man sighed.

"Yes. Did he write to you?"

"Frequently," Severus, replied, "But he made no mention of it."

"You don't write back as often as he'd like, you know," Remus commented and continued when Severus didn't reply. "Anyway, he knows how...difficult things have been for me and, well, he suggested that I get an assistant and that he could do the job."

"I thought Potter..."

"Harry," Remus interjected, but he was ignored.

"Would have preferred to remain as head of the Auror Office."

"I think part of him still does but, well, ever since Albania..." he trailed off.

Three months ago, Harry and two other Aurors had been tracking some Neo-Death Eaters as they had been dubbed; people who for some reason, chose to mimic the activities and ideals of the original Death Eaters. Harry had been badly wounded. He'd spent a month in hospital and almost lost his left arm, as it was, he'd been extremely lucky to have kept it.

"I think he wants something...safer," Remus said quietly. It wasn't the first time that Harry had been injured because of his work, but this had been the worst one.

"He does recall that his formative years here could hardly be considered 'safe'."

Remus gave a small smile, "I'm sure he does. But things are different now," he said.

"Hmmm," the man's lip twitched a little.

"Here," Remus said, placing a tightly bound scroll on the desk, "The paperwork," he explained.

Severus looked away and caught the eager blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore's portrait who'd moved to one of the others paintings around the room so that he could see Snape's reactions better, even though the younger man kept looking away from him.

"I will see what, if anything, can be done about the Wolfsbane potion," he said, standing up, his long black robes shifting elegantly around him. "Now I have a meeting to attend at the Ministry. Bring Potter here tomorrow morning, after breakfast," he added before apparating away.

Fawkes chirped as he left and went back to preening his luxurious feathers.

* * *

"How are you?" Harry asked Remus when he arrived at Hogwarts the next morning.

It was three weeks before the start of the new school year so the castle was filled with only the teachers. It was strange for him to see Hogwarts without any students in it.

"I'm...coping," Remus replied.

"Really, Moony."

"Harry, I'm fine, tired maybe, but I'm fine. You're the one who spent a month in hospital."

"Well, I'm alright now," Harry replied.

"Your arm?"

"Better," Harry nodded, flexing his left arm, "But I'm told it's a good thing I didn't go in for professional Quiddich playing. I take another bludger to the arm and...well..." he said. "I don't want Ginny and James going through it all again, they were worried sick. They hardly left the hospital the whole month."

"I know that, and also I know that you'd rather stay an Auror."

"It's not about me," Harry shook his head. "Anyway, how's...the headmaster?" he asked.

Harry never really knew how to address Severus Snape, even now. He respected the man more than anyone he'd ever met. They had infrequent, not as often as he'd like, meetings over tea or fire whiskey and chess when Severus turned up after the main event of Christmas or birthday parties too. But he didn't think it appropriate to call him 'Severus'. For one thing, he'd never been given permission, unlike every other adult he'd met who had since insisted on being called by their given name.

"Busy," Remus answered with a faint smile.

"Oh," Harry breathed.

He wrote to Snape a lot, probably too much, but he hardly ever got replies. He knew not to expect too much from the man. He was intensely solitary and private and Harry didn't think that would change. But it didn't feel right not to include him, or at least attempt to include him. He was only alive because of Snape, he had a family because of Snape, he owed everything to the man. And Snape hadn't ever asked for even a thank you in return. Not once. But Harry made sure that he knew that he was grateful.

"Lacewing Flies," Remus said to the gargoyle at the spiral staircase and they slowly ascended to the office. Just as Dumbledore had had passwords of his favourite confectionaries, the Potions Master had passwords of ingredients, it seemed only fitting.

"No!" they heard Snape cry, the door of his office slightly ajar.

"But, Severus..." Albus spoke quietly.

"No, Albus! I've done enough!" the younger man replied, angrily. "You can't keep me here forever! I seem to recall that I agreed to remain as headmaster for a year, two at the most, it's been eight years! Eight more years of my bloody, wretched life!"

"Language!" one of the portraits muttered, but was ignored.

"I never forced you to stay," Dumbledore, or rather his portrait replied kindly, "You have remained because you excel at your job and I dare say, you enjoy it. Like many who come here, some of the best years of your young life have been spent here..."

"And some of the worst!" Snape hissed.

"I seem to remember that you were here quite a lot explaining some of your worst little...pranks gone wrong," another portrait spoke with a chuckle.

"My pranks?!"

"Yes, Severus, not all of the trouble you found yourself in was in retaliation to James Potter. Or have you forgotten what happened to those pixies in your third year?"

"Pixies!" Severus repeated again, livid.

"I remember that you and Lilly..."

"You old coot! This is my future...whatever may be left of it...I'm talking about and all you want to do is remiss about my school days!"

"You always did have a tendency for the dramatic," Dumbledore said, fondly and Snape scoffed.

"Haven't I don't enough?" the younger man asked in a rare display of weakness.

"My dear boy, what will you do if you leave? Retreat to Spinner's End? To Prince Manor? Oh, but wait, you sold your house at Spinner's End didn't you, and, if memory serves, you set the money aside for..."

"Don't you ever mention that! Ever!" Snape warned.

"What? He sold his house?" Harry whispered to Remus.

"I suppose, in that case, you'll go to Prince Manor, sit alone in the dark and brood? Yes, that would be a splendid use of your talents, Severus."

"My talents," Snape hissed, "Are useless now."

"Whatever do you mean by that?"

"You know I didn't become a teacher because I wanted to. I was more use in one year as a spy than I ever was as a teacher in two decades."

"So you'll go back to being a spy? Who will you spy on? And if you do, it won't be easy. The wizarding world is hardly ignorant of what you did."

"Bloody Potter," Snape muttered.

"In fact, I think everyone knows what you did, you have a biography, don't you?" Dumbledore asked, happily.

"I banned that feeble excuse for a novel, at least where this place is concerned."

"A pity," the portrait replied, seriously, "I'm told it was very interesting."

"Must you..." Severus stopped suddenly and then, without warning or even the slightest noise, the door was flung wide open and he was standing there with his wand in his hand, pointed right at Harry and Remus. "Eavesdropping, Potter?" he raised an eyebrow and slowly lowered his wand.

"50 points from Gryffindor?" Harry asked, sarcastically with a small smile.

"...At least," Snape nodded, turning around with a flourish of his robes and leaving the door open for them.

"Fawkes," Harry smiled, walking swiftly over to the phoenix which rested happily on his perch.

"Apparently," Snape began as he sat behind his desk. "You want to change your career," he said to Harry.

"Apparently, so do you," the younger man replied quickly.

"...How much did you hear?"

"A bit," Harry admitted after a moment. "I didn't know you sold your house in Spinner's End," he said.

"I wasn't using it," Snape shrugged.

"What about Prince Manor?" he asked curiously.

He'd only ever seen it a handful of times, but the splendour and warmth of Prince Manor was simply stunning. Severus said that it was a depressing place, but Harry disagreed. It was beautiful, probably twice as old as as Malfoy Manor and as such, it had been hidden from the Death Eaters during the years of war. And of course, Severus Snape had been disowned from the Prince family line at birth because of his mother's marriage to a muggle. But, with no other living member of the family, the house and its wealth had finally gone to Severus.

"Never you mind," Snape said, menacingly, but Harry hadn't been scared of him in many a year. Not since he'd seen the broken shell of a man in a memory, weeping as he held the dead Lily Potter in his arms, to be precise. "Lupin tells me that this assistants' job was your idea. Explain," he demanded.

"Well," Harry sighed. "I think...Remus has probably told you. This wasn't the first time I've been hurt because of my job. I put it off last time but, well, I think I've had enough excitement for one lifetime..." he trailed off.

"I see," the pale man breathed. "You realise, however, that you have no teaching qualification that justifies such an abrupt action on my part, to hire you."

"I don't have any teaching qualification, no, but I've trained Aurors."

"And that automatically justifies teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts to children?"

"Actually, I think teaching children will be harder," Harry smiled.

"Exactly. They are accident prone. They do not listen. Some don't even want to learn what you have to teach them. Aurors, I would sincerely hope, are none of those things."

"Well, I did meet one Auror a while ago and she was the clumsiest person I've ever..."

"Potter," Snape rolled his eyes. "If you want this job, you'll have to teach classes and complete a teaching course at the same time. It's not an easy option."

"You did it," Harry said.

"How do you know that?" Severus glared momentarily at Dumbledore's suddenly innocent looking portrait, suspiciously.

"It said so in...argh," he broke off when Remus kicked his foot. "I mean...erm..." Harry stammered, feeling suddenly very much like a child.

"That blasted book, wasn't it?" Snape sighed.

"...It's really not that bad," Harry told him, "James loves it. He doesn't want to hear Beedle the Bard at bedtime, he'd rather I read him 'The Man in Black'," he said, quoting the title of Snape's dreaded biography with a smile and Dumbledore chuckled. "Anyway...this isn't just...look, I've thought about this a lot. Being an Auror was what I wanted for so long but I spent most of my time here just trying to stay alive because of Dark Wizards. I don't want to spend the rest of my life catching them."

"You'd rather work for one instead," Snape said, dryly.

"You're not a Dark Wizard."

"Was all your schooling truly wasted? Do you really not know the definition of the term, especially when one is sitting right in front of you? Are you quite sure you've been head of the Auror Office for three years?"

"Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "Really. Harry, I think teaching is a wonderful idea."

"Despite my protestations, I am the headmaster here, Albus," Snape sneered in disapproval.

"Indeed you are, Severus," the old man's eyes positively glowed, "And the decision is yours."

"You are sure about this?" Severus asked Harry.

"Completely."

"I can't have even an assistant professor changing his mind in the middle of the school year."

"I won't change my mind," Harry told him, confidently.

"Fine," Snape took up a quill and quickly scrawled his spidery signature at the bottom of a long scroll. He then wordlessly spelled it dry, rolled it up and handed it to Harry. "Welcome to Hogwarts...Assistant Professor Potter," he said without emotion.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry smiled, far too used to the emotional masks of Severus Snape to take any offence as he took the scroll from him.

"You will be expected to keep the same hours as your...mentor and to teach his lessons when he is unable. It now saves me the chore of doing it myself," he said smugly.

"Of course," Harry nodded. "Where am I supposed to live? I don't suppose I'll be back in Gryffindor Tower, will I?"

"The third floor will, I think be best suited. There's always been extra accommodation for assistant professors, but they've hardly been used. The most obvious for you would be the rooms near to Lupin's and your classroom."

"There's more?"

"Naturally. There is a staff meeting in a week which you will be expected to attend. Until then...I'd advise you to familiarise yourself with Lupin's plans. I assume that you will show your assistant to his rooms," Snape turned to Remus.

"I'd be delighted, Severus," Remus stood. "And what will you do?"

"Among other things, I will need to justify hiring a new member of staff," he answered, eyeing the mountain of paperwork on his desk.

"Don't you have final say on who works here?" the werewolf asked.

"Naturally, but Albus neglected to mention the fact that the Ministry needs ten rolls of parchment for every decision made, whether it be for Hogwarts or what they themselves have for dinner every day. But I doubt they'll but up much resistance when they learn just who your assistant is," Snape said, taking a vial from his robes to place on his desk. "Your potion for the month. I imagine the taste will be worse than ever but it may improve your recovery time," he explained.

"You improved it so quickly? I only told you..."

"I am a Potions Master," Snape sighed dramatically and Remus smiled kindly.

* * *

A.N. This is set in 2006, so at most, Harry's son, James Sirius Potter is about three years old.


	10. 6th August 1998

Questioning

6th August 1998

* * *

In a large circular room, deep within the bowels of the Ministry, Severus Snape was sat in a chair, alone, facing an entire gathering of witches and wizards. There were the Heads of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Aurors, and members of the Wizengamot.

At the head of the room sat Kingsley Shacklebolt, now elected Minister for Magic with a remorseful expression as he stared down at the headmaster of Hogwarts. In truth, he hadn't wanted to do this, the man was still weak and it would be a miracle if his healing throat allowed him to talk for hours on end, but ultimately, it was necessary.

"Let me make one thing absolutely clear," Shacklebolt began, authority practically dripping from his voice. "Our purpose today is not to try Severus Snape for any act that will be discussed. He has been granted a full and unquestioned pardon for his actions during the war as a spy. We are to establish the facts, for the record," he finished.

In the seats around the room, along with the Ministry officials, sat Harry beside his friends, Ron and Hermione, Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin. Despite Severus' protests, they had chosen to accompany him today.

"Did they really have to have to set this up as a formal hearing?" Hermione asked Arthur Weasley.

"Kingsley didn't want it to end up like this," he told her. "It was Severus' idea. If he reports to all the departments at once, then he won't have to do it again. And if it's done in an official way, no one can complain," he said.

"And the Veritaserum?" Harry asked, "They're treating him like a criminal."

"I know," the man sighed. "But Severus insisted. Most people in the Ministry don't believe him. I don't think he particularly cared about that but you vouched for him, Harry. There was a lot of talk that he'd hoodwinked you into saying..."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed rather loudly and all eyes turned to him, including the disapproving glare of the headmaster. "Erm...sorry," he muttered.

"Now," began a member of the Magical Law Enforcement. He was stood where Kingsley had just been sat, at the head of the room as he address the people present. "To begin, you will confirm that you are indeed Severus Tobias Snape, born 9th January, 1960 to the witch Eileen Snape, formerly Eileen Prince, and the muggle, Tobias Snape in Cokeworth, the Midlands."

"I am," Snape gave an almost imperceptibly nod. He abhorred the odious formality that the 'gathering' had started with and it did not bode well for the rest of it.

"And you have consented to be present before this assembly today as well as the administration of Veritaserum, to answer any and all questions put to you. Is that correct?"

"It is," he answered.

"And to clarify," the man continued. "This is not the first time you have been brought before this assembly. You were tried and convicted as a Death Eater in the autumn of 1981..."

"Objection!" someone from the stands shouted out, "Those charges are no longer relevant!"

"We are permitted to ask any question..." another yelled back while others loudly began to talk amongst themselves.

"Order!" Kingsley shouted, and the debating witches and wizards fell silent. Because he'd made it clear that his trust was with Severus, there was only so much he could do today and not appear biased, and though he knew that the other man was aware of that, it didn't make it any easier. "The objection is noted," he said, gravely, his eyes practically begging for Severus to forgive him, "But overruled. Continue."

His associate seemed rather smug when he heard this and he puffed out his chest like an egotistical and proud bird of prey. "To repeat the question," he said. "You were tried and convicted as a Death Eater in 1981 at the end of the first war? Is this correct?"

"It is," Snape said, biting back a rather sarcastic and snappy remark. It would do him no good here.

"And you admit that all charges made in that hearing were precise and accurate?"

"I do."

* * *

"Who's he?" Harry whispered to Mr. Weasley.

"Ministry appointed Inquisitor," the man answered, "They're supposed to ask questions proposed anonymously by the people present to hear the answers. The idea is that they're impartial in their questioning, but..."

"There hasn't been an impartial Inquisitor since before the first war," Remus finished for him.

"And...Snape knew that?"

"I don't doubt it," the werewolf said.

* * *

"Based on the testimony given by Albus Dumbledore, former headmaster of Hogwarts, you were released after turning informer, in which capacity you remained until the end of the second war. The Ministry was never told what exactly prompted your defection, however, your reasons are known now. Will you kindly inform those present of just what those reasons were?"

"If they are known, why do I need to repeat them?" Severus asked, rightly. He was biting his lip and his hands were griping the arm rests of the chair tightly. The Veritaserum would make sure that he answered, but he was very reluctant to do so, especially with Harry listening.

"Agreed!" people nodded from their seats.

"You will repeat them, because it is the will of this court to hear it," the Inquisitor said, condescendingly. "Now answer the question."

"I was not aware," Severus remarked, gritting his teeth, "That this was a 'court' hearing."

"I was elected to ask you these questions and you are here, by your own consent to answer them. I ask you again, your reasons for your defection from the Death Eaters, what were they?"

"The Dark Lord..." Severus answered, breathing heavily, still clearly trying to resist the effects of the Veritaserum. "Planned to murder...someone," he said.

"And who was this 'someone'?"

"You know who she was!" Snape hissed, leaning forwards.

"What was her name?" the man asked again.

Snape lowered his head, his black hair obscuring his face as he growled under his breath as he heard others from the Ministry begin to protest at the questions being asked.

* * *

"Is it all going to be like this?" Harry asked Remus.

"Looks like it," he said. "I hoped that Kingsley would have been able to appoint a less...biased...Inquisitor but that's not something the Minister has a say in. Provided that he doesn't abuse his power," he added.

"This isn't fair," the younger wizard said. "It's not right," he added, watching the wizard struggle against the potion that no one could win against.

* * *

"The name," the Inquisitor pressed and Snape could resist no longer.

"...Lilly Potter..." he hissed at him, glaring at him with eyes that had frightened grown men into fleeing. The Inquisitor seemed momentarily startled certainly, but not enough to make him run in fear. More to the pity.

"And, had he not planned to murder this woman, you would not have defected?" the Inquisitor asked after a moment, much to his own embarrassment, his voice sounded shaky, almost afraid, despite the fact that he had stood his ground under that withering glare.

"I...cannot say."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know," he snarled, quietly.

"I see. So, you defected in order to protect someone but once your former master returned, you rejoined them, to spy on them of course, with ease?"

"Hardly," Snape scoffed. "I'd been living as a traitor and working for the Dark Lord's enemy for a decade. The Dark Lord liked to make it quite clear that he did not tolerate traitors."

"What did he do to traitors?"

"...It depended on the offence...and his mood."

"And your offence?"

"I was one of the many that did not attempt to find him after the end of the first war. I believed that he was dead, as we all did, until Dumbledore told me otherwise. My offences were, that as the Dark Lord's servant, I did not spend my every waking moment in an attempt to either find or revive him. I worked for the man he hated and feared above all others. And I did not keep the old ways alive," Snape answered.

"Those ways being the activities of the Death Eaters?"

"Correct."

"And your punishment?"

"Among other things, prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse which he believed would weaken my Occlumency shields and allow him access to 'enemy' secrets."

"And did it?"

"He saw nothing which I did not allow him to see."

"We can assume that what he saw convinced him of your loyalty to him otherwise, presumably, you would not be here. So, is it fair to say that he trusted you?"

"The Dark Lord trusted no one," Severus remarked.

"Throughout the trials of other Death Eaters, many believed that they had his trust and that you were a particular favourite of his," the Inquisitor said. "Is this true?" he asked.

The pale headmaster let out a derisive snort and gave a sardonic smile as he spoke. "He cut my throat and had his poisonous 'pet' bite me over twenty times," he said, "Is that favouritism?"

* * *

Remus noticed Harry smirking beside him. "He's scared of Snape," Harry muttered to him.

"Who isn't?" Ron grumbled back.

* * *

The Inquisitor let out a nervous sounding cough as he shuffled his papers, looking at them for a minute before turning his attention back to Snape.

"You became headmaster after killing Albus Dumbledore, which has been established as part of the deceased's plan. Tell us about this plan."

"I was ordered by Albus," Snape sighed, "To kill him. In doing so, I would become invaluable to the Dark Lord and I would gain control of the school.

He once more, lowered his head, ashamed of what he'd done. He did not want to be here. He didn't want to talk about this. He felt guilty enough as it was. But he didn't have a choice. Despite the fact that the Ministry, and the Wizarding public saw, as they always had, that Harry was a 'hero', because he'd vouched so publicly for Snape, even gone so far as to get him an Order of Merlin. He'd even heard rumours that he'd been controlling the 'boy who lived.'

Severus was used to being mistrusted and he knew that Harry was used to being talked about, as well. But this was different. Things could escalate further than simple rumours if he didn't act. By cooperating in this 'questioning', no matter what he was asked, it would go a long way in disapproving some of the rumours.

"He had been cursed," Severus continued. "He had little more than a year to live. It does not excuse what I did. I didn't want to do it...but I did."

"You willingly and freely admit to the murder of Albus Dumbledore?" the Inquisitor asked, and once again, the room erupted in protests.

"...I do," Snape spoke over them and they quietened on his mournful admission.

"Objection!" someone called out, standing up. "It's already been proven that the deceased ordered to be killed. No charges were brought against Severus Snape, nor will they be at any point."

"But Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of the age!" another said, "And he was murdered by the very spy he'd defended!"

* * *

"Say nothing," Harry," Remus warned the young wizard. He could see that Harry was becoming increasing, and rightly, agitated. "If you defend Severus now, then it will all have been for nothing," he said.

"But..."

"He won't thank you for interrupting."

"But I can't just..."

* * *

"I killed him," Snape said, slowly. "So that someone else wouldn't have to. It was Albus' wish and his order. My soul," he sneered, "Was already marred. He wanted to save one that was not."

"Regardless of your own guilt?"

"...Yes."

"And who was this person that you were to protect?"

"I...will not...answer," Snape hissed at him, gripping the arm rests of the chair again.

He'd heard nothing to indicate that the Ministry knew of Draco Malfoy's part in the plan and though the boy had been forced into it, to save his family, he didn't want to risk it. But then, Snape had been somewhat out of touch with the the world lately. All he knew was that Lucius and Narcissa were under constant guard and wandless. Because of Narcissa's well timed lie to Voldemort, she'd managed to save her family from Azkaban but their reputations would likely never recover. He'd heard nothing to suggest that it had been Voldemort's plan to turn Draco into a murderer.

"You have no choice," he replied, raising an eyebrow at the Potion Master's resistance to the Veritaserum.

"This 'court'," Snape repeated the man's earlier description, "Does not...need...to know."

"I think it does."

"I say it doesn't!" Snape yelled at him.

Most people in the room, despite the fact that many were a good deal older than Snape, sat stock still in their seats. Though the man sitting in the middle of the room had fought for the side of the light, it was clear that he was a dark wizard. Of course, just because one was a dark wizard, it didn't make a person a bad one. Everyone knew that. The problem was, that the ones that did go bad gave the ones that didn't, a bad name. And it wasn't often that Snape raised his voice.

"The Ministry is fully aware of the identity of this person," a woman stood up. She was middle aged, thin and wearing the red robes of the Auror Division. "He has been offered immunity in exchange for abiding completely by a set of provided regulations. He is under guard and without his wand. He poses no threat. This line of questioning is redundant," she addressed the Inquisitor.

"Agreed," Shacklebolt said.

"You knew?!" Snape exclaimed, "For how long?!" he demanded, standing up.

"We are asking the questions," the Inquisitor remarked, rather put out.

"How long?" Snape asked again, his voice low and menacing.

"Since the beginning of the Death Eater trials. More than one of them told us about what was planned. The child's father pleaded guilty to all charges on the stipulation that his son not be charged," the woman, still standing, told him. "We imposed sanctions on the boy but we do not hold him responsible. We have kept this from everyone for the child's own protection."

This answer slowly seemed to pacify Snape and he gave her a nod of acknowledgment. "Continue," he commanded the Inquisitor, and the woman sat down. Snape didn't.

"At Hogwarts then," the Inquisitor said, finally, "The Carrows were appointed by You-Know-Who to utilise the school as a training ground?"

"Yes. I did not want them there," Severus answered, "But I could not refuse the Dark Lord's order."

"During their year at the school they were increasingly brutal to the students, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would."

"And how exactly would they punish the students?"

"The Cruciatus curse was widely used," Severus ground out, "But they were by no means limited to it. On several occasions, I was told that students were chained to the walls, deprived of food or forced to administer the curse themselves to other students."

"Was their 'attention' focused on any students in particular or did all at Hogwarts receive the same 'treatment'?"

"At first I believe they detested all students equally," Snape sneered. "However, those that opposed them were singled out and were to be eliminated as enemies of the Dark Lord."

"Who, in particular?" the Inquisitor asked.

"Neville Longbottom, Ginevra Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Cho Chang, Michael Corner, Seamus Finnigan...in short," Snape listed slowly, "All those who had been members of a...group...known as the D.A. They made it their mission to oppose me and the Carrows."

"And what did you do to this...group?"

"I had to appear to despise them, it was essential. Their hatred of me cemented my loyalty to the Dark Lord but it put them in mortal danger. While I approved of their...activities...there was only so much I could do to prevent the Carrows from killing them."

"Would they have killed them?"

"Of course. They are Death Eaters. They will not show mercy to children."

"Was any student murdered by the Carrows at Hogwarts?"

"No."

"Was there ever an occasion on which they came close?"

"...Yes."

"During the last year you, presumably, attended many of the Death Eater 'meetings'. What happened during these meetings?"

"On occasion...we were introduced to witches or wizards that the Dark Lord had 'persuaded' to join our cause. If they had any useful information, we would gather to hear it. If they didn't...or if they refused...then, more often than not, we were summoned to watch their deaths," he looked away from every set of eyes in the room and stared at a spot on the floor.

"People like Charity Burbage?" the Inquisitor asked after a minute.

"...Yes," Snape nodded, once again, letting his hair hide his eyes.

"You were present when she died?"

"I was."

"You were...friends?" he asked.

"...No," Snape answered, now standing behind the chair, leaning both hands against the back of it.

"Why 'no'?"

"I lived my life at Hogwarts for a decade with the knowledge that the Dark Lord would return. I could not risk another persons' life by being 'friends' with anyone. Once he did return and saw them in my mind, they would have been in danger. Particularly one that believed so ardently that muggles and wizards should coexist. So no, I was not, could not, be her friend. I was her colleague."

"She died in Malfoy Manor?"

"...Yes," Snape said, hanging his head.

"How?"

"I do not think..."

"Answer the question, headmaster, if you will."

"The killing curse," Snape said, quietly.

"Who cast that curse?"

"...The Dark Lord."

"You saw it?"

"Yes. We all did. He made an example of her."

"An example?"

"Of what happens to people who do not believe as he does. She was not the first. It was often his 'pleasure' to provide such a display every other week."

"Who else was present?"

"Malfoy, Dolhov, Yaxley, the Carrows, the Lestranges, Avery..." he listed.

"Did Miss. Burbage happen to see you at this meeting?" he asked and Snape gave a single, silent nod. "She spoke to you?" he asked.

"I would assume...since you're asking about it...that you already know...what she said," Snape sighed.

"Answer the question, Mr. Snape."

"She...begged me to help her. She begged me to save her. But I couldn't."

"Why not?"

Snape let out a snort of disbelief and stared up at the Inquisitor. "There was over fifteen Death Eaters present, not to mention the Dark Lord himself and Nagini. What would you have had me do? I would have been dead before I drew my wand and two decades of my life would have been for nothing."

"She was an innocent witch," someone said, standing up. It was an old man in black robes of the Magical Law Division. "And you just sat there and watched her die," he said, inciting loud protests and jeers of agreement from the others.

"Yes, I did. On that same night, I listened as Bellatrix Lestrange planned to murder her niece simply for marrying a werewolf. I actively participated in the discussion to capture Potter and then I sat and listened as the Death Eaters laughed at Charity Burbage as she was levitated over the dining table. I watched as she died...and then I sat and watched as the Dark Lord fed her to Nagini. Then I returned to Hogwarts where the students were living under the threat of torture. That was what I had to do," Snape hissed at him.

He'd begun to pace in the small space available to him, like a caged animal, his robes billowing around him, like a shadow. "If they'd seen even the slightest hesitation in me...do you have any idea what would have happened? I would have been killed instantly and Hogwarts would have been overrun with the Dark Lord's followers. Her death..." he stopped and stood still, "Was...regrettable. But then, all are...I did nothing as she died...but I assure you...nothing you say...and no punishment you can administer...will be worse than living with what I saw," he told the Inquisitor.

"Rest assured," the Inquisitor said after a moment, "There is to be no sentencing. Now...three Death Eaters managed to escape from the Aurors after the battle at Hogwarts. I assume, by now, that you are aware of this?" he asked and Snape nodded. "Rodolphus Lestrange, Walden Macnair and Samien Travers. *1 I'm told that the Aurors lost their trail two weeks ago and nothing has been found since to indicate where they are now. Any information you are willing to provide about either of these wizards will, I'm sure, prove to be most useful."

"Macnair..." Snape began, taking a deep breath. This topic was much more easy to discuss than the last, so he was grateful for the change. "Is perhaps the weakest of the three. But Travers...and Lestrange particularly, are both far more volatile. They were amongst the most loyal and fanatical of the Dark Lord's supporters. Both willingly searched for him after the first war," he said.

As he spoke, he stalked about the room again, talking as though he were giving a lesson and the people around him were listening as intently as first year students. Though, of course, for different reasons. "Travers and Lestrange were high in the Dark Lord's ranks because of their loyalty and to get there you must be ruthless. We were encouraged to compete with one another. No Death Eater was ever loyal to another," he said. "I would almost guarantee it that before the month is out, one of them, probably McNair, will be found...dead," he added.

"And why is that?" the Auror asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Because he is a liability. If he is not dead already, I would be very surprised. Since they are running, they won't have time to dispose of the body so it shouldn't be too difficult to find. As for the other two...I would suggest...that until they are found, that precautions be taken to protect those who fought against the Death Eaters. In the meantime, it would be wise to have someone keep watch over the muggle news."

"Why?" the Inquisitor asked.

"They may not chance a...mass killing, yet...but a death here or there wouldn't raise too much suspicion in our world. A mysterious death in a small village with no signs of violence on the body is likely to get the muggles' attention, though."

"So...you would have us wait until they murder a muggle?" the Auror asked.

"Well, madam," he replied with a sneer, "Their trail has been lost. There aren't enough Auror's to search the entire country. But they have a few rather obvious targets likely to draw them out...Mr. Potter, of course, the Minister, and myself. I don't believe that they could breech the wards at Hogwarts now but considering the fact that both myself and Mr. Potter have been resident there for some time, it's still surprising that they haven't tried."

"To breech the wards? But you said that they couldn't," the Inquisitor said.

"No, and I don't think they could. It took an army of Death Eaters to break through them the first time and there is only three of them. But they must know by now that I betrayed them. I was always regarded with suspicion and the though of killing a traitor and the one who rid them of their master, would be too much of an opportunity to pass up."

"They wouldn't risk going near Hogwarts, surely," someone remarked, "No one with half a brain..."

"I never said that any of them was particularly clever," Snape interrupted.

"Based on what you've said," an Auror spoke, "Our best bet would be to use either you or Mr. Potter to catch these men."

"Mr. Potter has surely done enough," another Auror said.

"Agreed," Kingsley spoke, "It's the Auror office's job to catch these men. The headmaster and Mr. Potter are not to be involved."

* * *

Three hours later, the room emptied and Severus had fallen into the chair around which he'd interchanged between pacing, sitting and leaning against, all day. He was exhausted.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Kingsley said as he approached the tired man, "You know I didn't want to do this."

"You've said," Snape muttered.

"It could have waited," the Minister told him.

"No, it couldn't," he replied, pushing himself up. His hands were shaking and he did his best to conceal the fact but he wasn't sure if it was because he was cold or just overly tired.

"Well...either way, it's done," Kingsley sighed, "I'm not sure how much it'll change but it was good of you to agree to it."

Snape scoffed quietly and turned away without another word. It was his intention to Floo back to his office at Hogwarts and then to most likely collapse on his bed and sleep for a week.

"Professor," Harry called after him.

"...What, Potter?" Snape stopped his slow walk but didn't turn around. He could hardly face them after they'd heard his entire confession.

"Where...erm...are you going back to Hogwarts?" the young wizard asked.

"Where else would I go?"

"Severus, come back to the Burrow with us," Arthur suggested, kindly, "A warm fire and something to eat'll do you the world of good."

"I..." Severus shook his head with his eyes closed. "No, Arthur," he muttered.

"Molly'll be happy to see you," the red head added but Snape shook his head again. "Well...if you're sure," he pursed his lip.

"You shouldn't have come," the headmaster told them and walked away, not giving any of them a chance to speak again.

"Didn't really expect a 'thank you' did you?" Ron asked Harry with a sigh.

"No," his friend answered.

* * *

*1 I don't think Travers' first name is ever mentioned, he's always just called 'Travers' so I made one up. If it is actually mentioned and I've missed it, let me know.


	11. 9th August 1998

Decisions

9th August 1998

* * *

As much as he'd have liked to stay in bed for a week after his 'trial', for such as it really had been despite the Ministers' reluctance to call it that, Severus knew that he couldn't. He simply had too much to do. He'd slept for over two days straight after it in an almost catatonic state thanks to his unadvisable overuse of 'dreamless sleep' potion. It was only a few hours ago that he'd dragged himself out of bed, before sunrise, to sit at his desk and forced himself to make a start on the papers that had piled up there.

First, he had responses to read from students who had answered Minerva's letters about returning for an eighth year. He'd expected many of them to be scathing replies demanding to know by what right he was even sitting in Albus' chair, let alone what made him think why anyone would want to come back. But, to his very great surprise, some did want to return and Minerva had left those letters with him, telling him to read them.

But that wasn't all he had to do.

There were Aurors around the school since the three escaped Death Eaters hadn't yet been caught and he had to be kept informed of their movements and their findings. He was also expected to keep up to date with the repairs on the castle and advise the workers on what areas to focus on. And worst of all, he had yet to hire a new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts. There was little under a month left until the new term was to begin and he was still one teacher short.

They'd managed to find a new Muggle Studies professor. A middle aged man with a thin face and a habit of wearing muggle clothes called Romulus Harrington. However, no one wanted to apply for the Defence job and that came as no surprise.

Severus had one option, well technically, he had three, but two of them he refused to acknowledge and the third was just as unthinkable. The first option was that he could simply cancel the syllabus altogether, but considering that there had just been a war, people would want to know how to defend themselves in the post war paranoia. Not to mention it was one of the school's most popular classes despite the jinx on the job of teaching it.

The second option would be to teach the class himself, but that was a terrible idea. After everything he'd done in the last year, it would be better for him and the students if he was neither seen or heard. They wouldn't want him to be teaching a class and he wasn't sure that he had the energy for it anyway.

So, the only remaining option was to hire Remus Lupin. The man was a known werewolf and Severus didn't want to see him every day anyway but what other choice was there?

Albus' portrait, Minerva and Poppy had supported the idea; of course they had. But Severus hated it. He couldn't deny, however, that the man was a capable teacher and one to whom he owed a life debt. A little dramatic perhaps, he'd only caught hyperthermia, but in the state he'd been in, it was likely that it would have killed him had he not been found.

"How are you, Severus?" Albus' portrait asked him.

"That's the fifth time you've asked me," Snape muttered as he signed off another piece of parchment and laid it aside.

"Well, if you'd answered me the first time, I wouldn't have needed to keep asking, my boy, would I? I don't suppose you've noticed, but it's been two hours since I first asked you," he said, kindly.

"...I'm busy."

"Ah, I can see that, I can most assuredly see that. But a little rest might be in order, don't you think?"

"I don't have the time," the man snapped back.

"Severus, you know that I've always admired your work ethic, but this is slightly excessive, even by your standards. You've not recovered, and after what happened at the Ministry..."

"All that happened was that they asked me questions and I answered them," Severus sighed.

"And after that, you saw fit to drug yourself to sleep," Albus said, "I hate to see you like this..."

"Then don't look."

The portrait sighed deeply while Severus took up another piece of parchment from the seemingly endless pile in front of him.

* * *

An hour or so later, he was cajoled into eating breakfast when Minerva placed a tray of food on his desk, obscuring his papers with a charm that would only be removed once the food was gone.

Once he was finished and finally able to move the tray he shook his head and sighed at the smug look on her face. "If you keep this up, I'll have you charged for insubordination," he told her.

"I'd like to see you make that charge stick," she chuckled.

A nonchalant attitude was the method of disguising her concern that she'd adopted in regards to Severus. He didn't much care for people fussing over him and he was likely to respond to such treatment with hexes and cursed if he had the energy. But sarcasm and wit were things that he knew how to deal with.

"So," she began after a minute. "Because I know you won't listen, I won't rattle on about how foolish it was to take so much dreamless sleep potion on top of the medications you're already taking..."

"How generous," he muttered.

She'd been waiting for him two nights ago when he'd returned from the Ministry and she'd seen him stumble into his office. She had to help him to his bedroom because he'd almost fallen over twice. Minerva had wanted to be there with him when he was questioned but he'd assured her that the running of Hogwarts was more important. So, she'd sent Remus and Arthur and she got the feeling that he wasn't happy about it.

"So, I'll settle for asking if you've decided on a Defence professor since you've been so busy all morning," she said, glancing at the papers on his desk.

"...You want me to hire Lupin...don't you?"

"Will you? It's not like we have any other options and I'm sure that Remus would appreciate it."

"The Ministry..."

"You care as little about the Ministry's opinions about as much as I do," Minerva scoffed.

"It's not their opinions I was going to talk about, it was their laws," Severus remarked.

"Laws? Severus, really, I don't think they'll stop you from hiring a man who fought against You-Know-Who to teach Defence. It's either Remus or a Ministry appointed professor and we all remember how well that went last time."

"...It won't be another...person...like her."

"Can you be sure?"

"You just want me to hire the werewolf," he snapped, quickly.

"Three more students say they'll return next month," Minerva remarked. "Did you read their letters?" she asked and he nodded. "That makes forty now. I can't help but wonder just where they're all going to live."

"It's a castle," he remarked, "There's plenty of room."

"They can't possibly stay in their house dormitories. There's isn't the room **there**. And what about Quidditch? Should they be allowed to participate?"

"You would ask that," Severus rolled his eyes.

"It's a very important issue, Severus," she insisted with a smile.

"The pitch is still...unusable," he replied. The stands on the pitch, like everything else, had been damaged when the wards had been shattered and it wasn't classed as a priority to repair.

"Once everything else is finished we can focus on the Quidditch pitch. Surely giving the students a sense of normality would be a wise idea."

"Quidditch is not the be all and end all."

"You know, I often think you would have been rather good at it if you'd ever tried," she smirked.

"...I don't...like brooms."

"I don't think they much liked you, either," Minerva scoffed, remembering his school days. He'd been infamous for his dislike of brooms but of course, for many years he hadn't needed one anyway.

"We may as well let them play if they want to," he sighed. The students had been deprived of enough in the last year and he'd been cruel enough to them to last a lifetime. They'd earned his consideration. "I'll make sure the pitch is finished on time," he assured her.

She gave him an appreciative nod before she continued, "And...Defence? What will you do?"

"...You're not going to give me a minute's peace about this, are you?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Of course not."

"Fine," Severus sighed deeply, "You win...I'll hire the wolf."


	12. 1st August 1998

A Terrible Idea

1st August 1998

* * *

Severus was stood leaning over the pensive in his darkened office. He'd long since removed all of his predecessors memories from it and replaced them with his own in a failing attempt to keep his own mind clear. The faces that stared back at him from the watery smoke didn't help.

"It's a terrible idea," Shacklebolt told him, frankly.

"You have a better one?" he asked with a barely concealed sigh.

"...No," the Minister admitted, sadly. "But I still don't like it," he said.

"You won't keep your office very long if you don't take this seriously. I don't imagine you've done yourself any favours in giving a known Death Eater an Order of Merlin. I wasn't tried for my crimes, if I am, it might help..."

"I'm not going to put you on trial, Severus," Kingsley said, firmly.

"You don't have a choice."

"I don't care what's said about me and I didn't intend to become Minister for Magic anyway."

"What about what's said about Potter then?" Snape asked, shrewdly. "You're not an idiot, I know you've heard the rumours too."

"Ah," the man gave a sheepish smile, "I'd hoped you hadn't...I mean, you've hardly left this room, I didn't expect you to have heard about...that." Snape raised an eyebrow at him, as though in disbelief. "My mistake, clearly," the Minister chuckled.

"Clearly," the dark haired wizard muttered back, "So what did you plan on doing about it if not this?"

"Honestly, there's not a lot I **can** do," he admitted.

"Does Potter know?"

"I haven't had the chance to tell him but someone else might've."

"Then you'll have to set this up as quickly as possible, preferably before he does something stupid. Make it as official as possible," Severus told him. "The Wizengamot, the Aurors, Magical Law Enforcement...and whoever else you can think of," he shrugged.

"Is that really necessary?" Kingsley asked but an exasperated glare from Severus made him think twice. "Alright, alright," he relented, "It might take some time though," he said.

"No more than a week," Severus said after a slight nod.

"It won't be a trial," the Minister insisted.

"It needs to be."

"Well, it won't," Kingsley insisted.

"We'll see," Severus said, stubbornly.


	13. 1st September 1998

The Feast

1st September 1998

* * *

It was a determined deputy headmistress who paced before the headmasters' desk with Remus Lupin beside her. Severus himself, was standing up on the mezzanine, holding a book in his hands as he occasionally glanced down at them.

"Severus, the students will be here soon," Minerva said, "The sorting will begin in less than half an hour."

"I know," he replied, simply.

"They'll expect you to be there," she said.

"No, they won't."

"We can't have a sorting ceremony without the headmaster," Lupin remarked.

"All the better for them if I am not there," he told them. He turned a few pages in his book and after a silent moment of deliberation, he slid it back on a shelf and took out another.

"Now, really..." Minerva sighed.

"Remus is right, Severus," Albus' portrait said, "Surely you have seen enough of this office these last few weeks to last a lifetime. You told me, quite emphatically, that you would remain as headmaster..."

"For a year or two, that's all," Severus said, quickly. "As soon as all of the repair work is done, when everything is fixed, I'll leave. I don't need to give speeches or be at the sorting to do that."

* * *

Severus remembered very clearly having said those very words about an hour ago and yet here he was, sat at the centre of the teachers' table with Minerva on his right and Remus to his left.

He'd been sipping rather frequently from a goblet of fire whiskey but that had been banished in favour of much less harmful pumpkin juice. The last thing he needed to do was embarrass himself on the first day and become known as the 'drunken Death Eater of Hogwarts' when 'Bat of the Dungeons' was more than sufficient.

As each of the new students walked up to sit on the small stool where Minerva had stood with the sorting hat, they'd regarded him with varying expressions of fear. But he supposed that he should count his blessings; it was a miracle that parents had sent their children to Hogwarts at all, especially considering the many letters of disapproval he'd received from them.

He'd begun the feast once the sorting was over with a wordless snap of his fingers and the food had appeared. Overall, the mood had changed dramatically after that, no one could stay miserable at the Hogwarts feast.

"It's almost over, Severus," Minerva told him, consolingly as she gently patted his forearm.

Personally, Severus would have preferred a Death Dater meeting to this torture. The students knew that he was the headmaster, they knew where his office was and what he looked like, why did he need to show his face at the feast? Maybe he was in over his head.

"Something wrong?" Remus asked him, noticing that he'd hardly touched his food.

Severus only sent him a silent glare but this didn't seem to bother the other wizard in the slightest as he generously filled up the headmaster's goblet. "What are you planning to do about the speech?" Remus asked him and this time, Severus couldn't disguise his grimace.

"Honestly, Severus," Minerva sighed at his side, "It won't be that bad."

"Then you do it," he replied and Remus snorted into his goblet.

"Alright," she gave him a sympathetic smile, "You've done more than enough."

Snape looked at her in shock, he genuinely hadn't expected that kind of reaction. He was even more surprised when she went to stand up. "You're going now?" he asked.

"Well, yes," she answered, "We can't keep the students here all night, can we?"

Before she stood up, Severus sighed dramatically, pushed himself up and made his way to the podium. Minerva shared a confused look with Remus while the students' chatter died down immediately.

Severus knew he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't give the speech and he'd probably be branded a coward again; a coward who couldn't even address a hall full of children. But he also had no idea of what to say. He'd spent years weighing his words so carefully that it influenced his every thought. He'd never dreamt of going in blind, like he was doing now.

If it was Albus, he'd no doubt give a warm speech with his usual smile and twinkling blue eyes, but he wasn't Albus. He didn't have much to smile about and his eyes didn't seem capable of doing anything other than glaring.

As he neared the podium, it seemed to take an age to get there, he could feel the eyes of hundreds of students, all staring at him and it was very unnerving. He'd spent his life trying to be inconspicuous. His childhood had been spent trying to blend in. His young adulthood had been spent trying to disappear into the shadows and now here he was stepping into the proverbial lime light. He wasn't meant for this and he was too old to change.

The owl on the podium spread its great wings as he stood behind it and decided to focus on the closed doors at the end of the Great Hall rather than on the students themselves.

"No doubt," he began, "You're all as surprised to see me as I am to see all of you, however, I'll keep this as brief and as painless as possible," he said, deciding to stick to the facts rather than trying at niceties. "Now, I'd rather hope that none of you are unobservant enough to have not noticed that you were accompanied on the train by several Aurors. They are here for your protection and they are to remain here until the Ministry says otherwise."

"Why?" someone very bravely shouted out as the other students began talking amongst themselves.

Severus didn't see who it was but his lip twitched, threatening to smirk at the brave, or stupid student.

"Because," he began, silencing the entire hall with only a single word. "There are two Death Eaters who could very well be roaming the forest as we speak," he said and he could practically feel the disapproval of the professors from behind him.

Many would doubtlessly disapprove of him telling the students that, but it was still making headlines that two Death Eaters were at large. There wasn't a single person in the country that didn't know, which made it even more surprising that they'd managed to evade capture for so long.

"Therefore," Severus continued, authoritatively, "The Dark Forest remains off limits. No student is to wander the grounds or the castle after dark and no one...is to take it upon themselves to usurp an Auror's job...No exceptions," he added, glancing at Harry and his friends in particular. "As per the Ministry's wishes, I am to introduce you all to Madame McElroy," he said, turning back to see the young woman stand up from where she sat at the teachers' table. She had her dark hair pinned back and she wore a simple white shirt, a pencil skirt and a long wizards robe. "She is here, as you are all aware, at the request of the Ministry for...all who wish to...talk," he said, not bothering to hide the fact that he was clearly not one of those people.

He'd been against the idea of having a psychologist at the school. It had simply never been done. Surely it was better for the children to get on with their lives than to rake up the past. But, he'd been outvoted and so he was forced to play host to this woman who clearly wasn't keen on the idea of a Death Eater running the school. At least she was polite and as long as she continued to keep out of his way, perhaps it wouldn't be as irritating as he feared.

The hall had erupted at the announcement and though they had all been told beforehand that the school was to have a psychologist, none seemed eager at the idea. Perhaps that would change.

Psychology wasn't particularly wide spread among the magical community, it reminded people too much of the dangers of Legilimency. If you were willing to discuss your innermost thoughts and feelings with another person, it could weaken any natural mental defences and make it even easier for someone to force their way into your mind. Luckily, this wasn't the case with Madame McElroy as she was a squib.

"Silence," Severus said in a voice little louder than a whisper but, as it always had been, it was enough.

After he'd introduced Professor Harrington who was to teach Muggle Studies, 'welcomed back' Professor Lupin and told them that Hagrid was to teach Care or Magical Creatures, he'd exhausted what little he had to say.

Severus snapped his fingers and the huge doors opened silently, "Prefects, if you would," he said before he himself turned and left the Hall via the smaller door at the side of the teachers' table.

* * *

Harry yawned as he settled in his four poster bed. Across the room from him, Ron and Neville sat up in their own beds, the former looking over Harry's magical map and the latter, reading a book.

"You really think this'll be a normal, quiet year?" Ron asked him, "I've been waiting years for one of those."

"Don't know," Harry answered, honestly, "What's one of those, anyway?" he asked and Ron snorted.

"Hey, at least you can play Quidditch, right?" the red head remarked.

"So can you," Neville Said. Harry had been happily surprised when he learned that Neville chose to return to Hogwarts after everything that had happened. His friend had been mostly quiet throughout the train ride and the feast so he was understandably concerned, as was Ron..

"Yeah, maybe I will," Ron shrugged.

"Hermione' cheer for you," Harry muttered, shrewdly and Ron blushed a deep red that put his hair to shame.

"Knock it off, Harry," he grumbled, tossing a goblet from his nightstand at his friend who dodged it with impressive speed. "Y'think anyone'll have a 'talk' to that psycho woman?" Ron asked a minute later and Harry scoffed.

"She's a psychologist, Ron, not a psycho woman," he corrected.

"Whatever."

"...I might," Neville admitted, quietly.

"Really?" Ron asked, "But..."

"I think that's a great idea, Neville," Harry said before Ron could say more. "There's nothing wrong with talking about what happened. That's why she's here," he said.

"Yeah..." Ron reluctantly agreed after Harry shot him a patient glare. "Right...that's why she's here," he repeated. "I just think playing Quidditch'll help more," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Later that night, Severus was alone in his office when Madame Circe McElroy knocked at the door. He wasn't in the mood for guests so he ignored the loud knocking sound but she let herself in anyway.

"Headmaster," she greeted him, cheerily, closing the door behind her.

"It's rather late, Madame," he told her.

"This won't take long," she assured him and sat down in front of him.

Severus took a deep breath and set down his quill with more force than was strictly necessary, and then reluctantly looked across at her. "Then by all means," he said, waving a pale, dismissive hand. "I hope this isn't a professional visit," he added.

"I'm not a fool," she declared, "I know you don't want me here. You've made that clear but I'm used to that, you see. I'm not here to cause you trouble, I'm here to help the students...and the teachers."

"Well, as you saw, the students were delighted," he remarked, dryly and she smiled.

"They always are," Circe told him. "I don't expect many of them to speak to me straight away. Most wizarding children probably won't even know what I do. It's going to take some time," she said.

"I'm aware of that."

"I know you don't approve."

"I made no secret of it," he said, frankly.

"And I don't expect you to be a regular visitor to my office, either," she said.

"What a relief," Severus replied and saw the disapproving blue eyes of Albus staring down at him.

"But, in my professional opinion, the people who think they don't need to talk are usually the ones that needs it the most," Circe told him, much to his annoyance.

"...Anyone who decides to speak to you will be doing so voluntarily," Severus glared. "You won't need to make office calls," he said, flicking his dark eyes to the door in a silent dismissal.

"Of course," she replied, and stood up. "Goodnight, headmaster," she said, leaving him alone.

"That wasn't very polite of you, Severus," Albus remarked once she was gone, but he just scoffed and picked up his quill again.


	14. Late December 1998

Once A Piano Tuner, Always A Piano Tuner

Late December 1998

* * *

Arthur and Molly Weasley were, without a doubt, some of the kindest people that Severus had ever met, of course, he'd met with very little kindness in his life so they weren't up against much competition, but still, the sentiment was true.

He'd never spent too much time in their company over the years for fear that he'd eventually succumb to their niceties and for a spy, that would have been unacceptable. But he wasn't a spy anymore, as people we so fond of reminding him. And it **was** Christmas. A time for obnoxious decorations that hurt his eyes and nauseating sentimentality that he never fully understood. In fact, it was just a few days before Christmas and that night, he was sat in front of the Weasley's roaring fireplace across from Arthur, Molly, Remus and Nymphadora.

It was dangerously close to a social call and it still put the headmaster on edge. He'd learned that even before he was a spy that he didn't do well in social situations. But these people didn't seem to mind. They'd not forced him to come, in fact they'd asked very politely and he'd accepted. He wasn't quite sure why.

He'd just about managed to keep track of the conversation between Remus and Arthur about a grand piano that had been stuffed into the already cramped room. Apparently it had been kept in the attic and brought down for Christmas but it most emphatically did not belong to Arthur himself.

"No, no," Arthur laughed. "I could never get the hang of it meself. It's Molly's...well it was her grandmother's. Left it to her a few years ago but we never got round to getting it...fixed or whatever it is you do to a piano. The thing sounds like a banshee," he said, glancing at his wife.

"I always meant to get it tuned," Molly shrugged. The truth was that money had always been so tight, she'd not thought an old piano as important as buying the children their school books and robes. "I asked a friend a few months ago...said he'd come round if he wasn't too busy and I was hoping we'd get it done before Christmas. But it won't do it any harm to wait another year," she said. "You don't mind moving it again, do you, dear?" she said to Arthur.

"Course not," the man answered, very convincingly.

"I could," Snape began quietly, "Tune it for you," be offered. That was what you did for people who tried to be nice to you wasn't it? You helped them?

"You **could**?" Molly's eyes lit up, putting their glistening festive tree to shame. She seemed less surprised at the fact that he somehow, knew how to tune a piano, than she was thrilled at the prospect of getting the instrument fixed.

Severus said nothing but he nodded and finished the last of the third, very generous glass of red wine that he'd been given. "So...you play?" the red headed witch asked and watched as he gave a slight nod again. "I never knew," she said.

"I doubt any one did," Remus gave a small smile.

The wizard placed his empty glass on a table and began to regret saying anything when it had been the catalyst for everyone to stare at him so curiously. He decided to make an escape before someone made a move to pour him a fourth glass.

"I'll look at it tomorrow," he said, standing up.

"Oh, that would be wonderful," Molly smiled, gently hugging the man who still reacted just as stiffly to human contact as he always had. "Thank you, Severus," she said, letting him go.

Without another word he left, walking out into the garden to the edge of the wards and then he was gone.

* * *

The next morning he was sure that he'd made a mistake. Yes, he could play the piano and, yes, he could tune one as well, but it had been a while since he'd done either. Had it been his accursed social ineptitude, the three glasses of wine, or a inexplicable desire to prove himself useful even through he knew he'd outlived that usefulness, which had made him say anything at all?

In his youth, Severus, like many children who lived in Spinner's End, had been forced to work while most other children were learning to read and write or playing in the streets. Of course, he'd been an avid reader by then anyway so his parents had 'encouraged' him to work. His father had been a poorly paid miner and despite the laws, Tobias had taken his son down the mines to work at the age of six. He hadn't been the only one. So by the time he was ten, Severus had already been a seasoned miner and because he'd been so small, he'd also taken to pick pocketing. Tobias didn't care what he did as long as the boy brought him enough money for his beer and his foul smelling cigarettes.

His father had led a very simple life; home, work, pub. That was it. But out of the three, the pub had been Tobias' favourite. It had also been Severus' too for when Tobias was there, he wasn't forcing his son down the mine. True, he'd been a terrible drunk but anything was better than the pit.

It had also been the home of a brilliant pianist. The man had, at the time, been the oldest person that Severus had ever met and he too had been a terrible drunk but he'd had prodigious musical talent. In exchange for a few stolen coins each week, the old sailor had taught the boy the basics and found that he'd been a quick learner. When the man died; alcohol poisoning, the lessons had stopped but it had been shortly after that when he'd met Lilly Evans.

On his first visit to her parents' house, Mr. and Mrs. Evans had offered to teach him again. Her father had once tuned pianos for a living and her mother played even better than the old drunk had. She'd been overjoyed at the prospect of an eager student when neither of her daughters had been interested in learning and she'd taught him to play more than just off kilter sea shanties. On more than one occasion, he'd accompanied Mr. Evans when he'd journeyed out of the neighbourhood to fix a piano. Once a piano tuner always a piano tuner, he'd said. At the time, Severus had just been thrilled to leave Cokeworth as he'd never before even been in a car.

Then of course, he and Lilly had their...falling out. Then everything had changed. Her parents had tried to understand but after a while they'd stopped and Severus never saw them again.

He'd kept an old, battered upright piano in his house when he'd chanced upon it one night after a Death Eater raid and he'd tuned it himself. He still played it on occasion but that hardly made him an expert. Something told him that neither Molly nor Arthur would hex him if he made a mistake, but pottering around with a piece of second hand rubbish he'd scavenged wasn't quite the same as tuning a priceless heirloom.

* * *

When Severus arrived at the Burrow it was clear that breakfast had already been served but he considered that a stroke of good fortune. Molly still fussed over how 'thin' he was and frequently gave him meals large enough to feed her entire family. She'd discovered that he had a particular liking for scones and after everything he'd survived, it seemed rather laughable that 'death by scone' was how he was going to go if she got her way.

She greeted him as enthusiastically as ever as she looked up from the magically cleaning breakfast dishes in the sink. Clearly she noticed that he, as usual, was uneasy and perhaps she even noticed his nervousness and her answer was one that he was coming to know a little too well.

"Have a scone, dear," she said, handing him a plate with a large buttered scone filled with raisins. It smelt divine and he simply couldn't refuse, though of course, he tried.

After that, he and Molly lifted the lid on the piano and on seeing his slight grimace, she sighed. "It's...pretty bad, isn't it? I should've warned you," she lamented, "I'm no expert but...it needs more than tuning, doesn't it?"

It was a mess, there was no question. Any muggle would have had to charge a fortune to fix it but magic would help and he didn't plan on charging for his time. It looked as though at some point, one of the Weasley's cats had lived in the instrument and perhaps even the garden gnomes had cohabited, too. There was broken pieces of Merlin only knows what lodged in the delicate workings of the piano as well. It was no wonder Arthur said it sounded like a banshee. It was a wonder that it made any kind of noise at all.

"It could...take a while," he confessed.

"If you can't..." she began with a kind smile.

"I can try."

* * *

Three hours later, Arthur was sure the only thing keeping Severus going was sheer stubbornness. The man was famously stubborn. The pale wizard had pulled out a miles' worth of cables from Arthur's beloved muggle paraphernalia collection, though the red head had denied any knowledge of how they'd got there. He'd also removed several broken plugs, of which, again the man had no knowledge, as well as enough cat hair to stuff a pillow, a small book and some stones.

He'd long since been forced to remove his outer robe as well as his frock coat since they just hindered his movement, his cravat was loose around his lightly bandaged neck, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows with his left forearm, now perpetually wrapped in another bandage to hide the Dark Mark. He was surrounded by small, crumb covered plates and empty mugs of tea, courtesy of Molly of course. And by now he had an audience as well.

Young Teddy Lupin was playing on the floor with the cables he'd removed from the piano, apparently the boy found them quite fascinating and his parents seemed to find the sight of Severus working even more so. Harry and Ginny were there too though he had no idea why. He could understand why Molly and Arthur were there; to watch over her precious heirloom, naturally, but the others? Did they just enjoy making him nervous? That must be it.

"So...where did you learn to tune pianos, Severus?" Molly asked him, holding out a plate of biscuits which he politely declined. He worried that if he ate any more biscuits he'd keel over.

"...A neighbour," he answered after lightly blowing some of his hair off his face as he leaned over the inner workings of the instrument. He'd had to tie it back after the third time it had fell over his face and obscured his vision, making work impossible. This, for some reason, had amused his audience.

"And...they taught you to play, as well?" she asked, curiously.

"Different neighbours," Severus said, cursing aloud suddenly and almost growling at something that only he could see in the piano.

He leaned over even further and emerged triumphantly a second later holding a small, broken piece of mirror which Molly sheepishly took from him so he could continue his work.

"Oh, what were they like?" she asked him, some would argue, bravely.

He stared at her with his piercing onyx eyes but she seemed unmoved by the stare that had frightened even grown men into fleeing. So, he rolled those infamous eyes and sighed as he turned his attention back to the task at hand. "One," he began, "Was a chronic alcoholic I met in pub as a boy, but...the other two were...quite different," he said.

"A pub?" Arthur repeated.

"Even drunks need entertainment," Severus shrugged.

"No, I mean," the man shook his head, "How old were you? Why were you in a pub when you were a child?"

"Clearly you've never been to Cokeworth," the dark haired man muttered as he worked.

"And...erm...the other two you mentioned?" Remus asked, cleverly changing the subject.

"A barber and a green grocer," Severus said. Mr. Evans had become a barber after his piano tuning business had failed to provide enough for his family and his wife had opened a shop. He wasn't going to mention names because then Potter would start with his questions and he'd never get a moment's peace.

"Sounds like a bad joke," Tonks remarked before she could stop herself but to her relief, the headmaster just shrugged again and didn't look back to glare at her.

"I never wanted to learn when I was young," Molly confessed.

"Children rarely do," Severus remarked, prompting many a quiet snort.

"But my grandmother wouldn't take 'no' for an answer," the woman added, "I had to have a lesson every day when I wasn't at school. I suppose if I had her portrait anywhere she'd never forgive me for letting her piano get in this state."

"I've seen worse," he told her.

"Really?" Molly asked shrewdly and he nodded.

" **Yours** is in one piece," he said. He had after all, pulled his own small piano out of the remains of a Death Eater raid on a muggle house. There'd been little left of it and it had taken months to piece it all back together. But fortunately, necessity had forced him to become adept at mending things that most people thought beyond repair or he never would have had anything.

* * *

Another hour and a half later, Severus finally laid down his wand and scrubbed a hand through his hair. It was cleaner than it had ever been since he wasn't leaning over bubbling cauldrons all day. Despite what people thought, his hair had only ever been such a mess because of his occupation, it was a problem to all Potioneers but he'd never cared much about his appearance anyway. Well, except for one thing, at least. He pulled down his left sleeve, aware that the useless bandage had started to reveal the Mark, and sat at the old piano stool.

He then realised he had no idea of what he should play. He didn't need to play anything much, all he needed to do was run through the scales and check to see that all the keys sounded as they should. But it was a beautiful instrument and no one was really paying any attention to him anymore. Perhaps the novelty had worn off since they seemed to be talking amongst themselves rather than watching his every move.

Severus decided to try his luck, he gently tapped a few keys and when they sounded perfectly, albeit quietly, he tried another and another. Then, before he knew it, he'd jumped straight into playing one of the first little shanties he'd learned to play. It started just as energetic and raucous as it ended and he could see, as clear as day, the old man sat beside him, singing drunkenly in his ear as his father pranced around on unsteady legs. *1

It was clearly not the classical music that Molly's beloved grandmother had wanted her to learn so desperately, nor was it the more popular modern music that Mrs. Evans had taught the young Severus but it was what he was most comfortable with. He hated classical music. He always had even though Albus had frequently told him how 'spectacular' it was. He'd been born and raised in a deprived muggle neighbourhood amidst people who had little need or use for such music. So neither did he. The drunken shanties he'd learned as a child had saved him from more than one beating from his father; classical music would certainly not have done that.

Once the song was finished, Severus looked up and saw that to his horror, all eyes were on him so he stood quickly, straightening his cravat and buttoning his cuffs up. He snatched up his frock coat and with the agile grace of a dancer, he escaped from the piles of plates, mugs, cables and everything else, without tripping or knocking anything over despite Teddy's best efforts to the contrary.

"Severus?" Molly questioned, watching as he pulled on his coat, effortlessly as he searched around for his outer robe.

"Where is my robe?" he demanded.

"The erm...the cat got at it," she told him, nervously, "I did tell you, but you were...well, in any case, it won't be ready for another ten minutes or so."

He raised an eyebrow but he found no reason to disbelieve her; he was often unreachable when he was working. One minute he could be perfectly lucid and the next, it would be impossible to get a word out of him because he simply didn't hear anything that anyone said.

"Ah," he sighed with a frown.

He suddenly flinched when he felt something latch onto his right ankle and from long habit, his wand was in his hand in an instant and a vile curse on the tip of his tongue as he looked down at the floor. It was Teddy and he seemed to feel no fear towards the Death Eater whose shoe was he currently unlacing. The curse died on his lips and he lowered his wand as he tried to extricate the child from his foot. But Teddy was clingy.

He slid his wand in his sleeve and knelt down to remove the child but when he did so, the boy started to cry. When he stopped trying, Teddy stopped crying. He tried again and the child's wide eyes filled with tears so Severus sighed, heavily. Really, it was ludicrous, all the terrible things he'd done and a child's ridiculous tears were somehow like daggers attacking his cold heart.

The headmaster tried to untangle the laces from the small hands which clutched them but each time he did, Teddy just grabbed them again and the child's parents couldn't stop laughing.

"Will you kindly stop laughing and get this urchin off my foot?" Severus snapped at them.

"Urchin?" Remus repeated, snorting, "He's just a child, Severus."

"A child which had taken an annoying interest in my shoe. Do you not provide him with shoes as he finds them so fascinating?" he scowled then looked down at the boy again. "And will you stop that?" he muttered when Teddy started to mess with the laces of his other shoe happily.

"Come on, Teddy," Tonks chuckled, leaning over to pick up her son. But the boy started to cry again when she moved him. "He really likes them, headmaster," she told him after putting the boy back down to stop his crying.

"Obviously," Snape drawled, "Now, how exactly do you propose that I escape...preferably without sacrificing my shoes to your infant?"

"...Wait till he falls asleep?" she suggested and laughed sheepishly when he scowled at her. "Or...you know, or not...erm...Moony...little help?" she whispered to her much amused husband.

Remus joined his wife in trying to pick up their son and with his child in his arms rather than wrapped around Severus' foot, the werewolf tried to calm him down, to little avail.

Severus had been relieved at first to have been free from the clingy child and now all he wanted was for said child to stop crying. The sound of a child wailing wasn't something that even he could drown out no matter how much he tried. "I'm sorry, Severus, he just...he does this sometimes," Remus said over the crying child.

"Just make him stop," Severus replied, referring to the crying as he winced when the noise reached an impressively loud volume.

"I'm trying," the man insisted.

"Try harder."

"It's not that easy," Remus sighed, gently rocking the boy in his arms.

Harry and Ginny were trying unsuccessfully to distract Teddy with some of his toys while Ron covered his ears and Molly handed Tonks a bottle of warm milk which the boy refused.

After about a minute of non stop crying, Severus decided that his ears had suffered enough. He remembered hearing Potter's grandmother, Mrs. Evans once telling him that playing lullabies at the piano had been the only thing to lull her own children to sleep when they'd been very young. But the problem was, he didn't know any lullabies; he'd never heard any in his life. She'd never taught him because he hadn't been interested in learning any and his mother had certainly never sung him to sleep.

Somehow he ended up back at the piano playing 'Imagine' by the Beatles as softly as he could. It wasn't a lullaby but it was the closest thing he could think of and it seemed to pacify the unruly child. He stopped playing once Teddy had finally settled in Remus' arms and they were able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"How did you do that?" Tonks asked him, unashamedly impressed. "You stopped his crying! Nothing ever stops him crying!" she said.

Severus himself was still shocked that it had worked and he didn't much like the expressions of disbelief and something that, were it directed at anyone else, he'd probably have called it awe.

"...Beginners luck, eh, Severus?" Arthur offered, noticing the stunned headmasters' face as the man sat still as a statue at the piano.

"That was beautiful...does this mean my son is a Beatles fan?" Remus asked quietly, smirking over at Severus. "My mother was a muggle, I know who they were," he said, "Never knew you were a fan."

"Your lack of knowledge is atrocious, Lupin," Severus scoffed. "It was not a Beatles song. It was written by John Lennon, alone, fool," he explained.

"My mistake," Remus smiled, amused.

"Beatles? Eh?" Ron muttered, looking to Harry and Hermione, both of whom were smiling.

Snape just turned away from Remus' kindly eyes and he was saved from further humiliation, or so he'd hoped, when Molly announced happily that his robe was clean. She carried it over to him and indeed it was cleaner than he'd ever seen it, she'd even managed to make it smell like something other than potion ingredients and a damp castle dungeon. Though whether it was good for his reputation to walk around smelling like lavender was perhaps, questionable. Without meeting the gaze of anyone else in the room, Severus swung his robe around his shoulders.

"Thank you for fixing the piano," Molly said as she, in a very mothering manner, stepped forwards and began to straighten the flowing fabric over his shoulders. So much for the end of his humiliation. He glared at the onlookers who suddenly found different things to look at around the room. "I've no idea how much it would've cost but I can't just..." she began.

"I don't want your money," he snapped, quickly.

"But, I..."

"I said, I don't want money," Severus repeated and she sighed. "Consider that you gave me enough biscuits to more than cover the fee," he told her in an effort to placate the formidable Weasley matriarch.

"It wasn't that many," Molly shook her head, smiling as he walked off.

"You're not staying for dinner?" Arthur asked.

"No," he shook his head as he opened the door.

"Well, you'll come to Christmas dinner, at least, won't you, dear?" Molly asked.

"...We'll see," Severus muttered before he left. Why, oh why, couldn't he have just said 'no'?

* * *

*1 If you search 'Pam Wedgwood a rough sea shanty #43' on YouTube, this is the music Snape is playing. And there's a lullaby version of 'Imagine' on YouTube as well.


	15. 16th August 2006

Potter's First staff Meeting

16th August 2006

* * *

Harry wasn't quite sure what to expect at a Hogwarts staff meeting. He'd been to plenty of Auror meetings and they were usually pretty formal affairs since their work was such a serious business. Remus had told him that since Severus had become headmaster, their meetings were short and not at all formal. At first it had confused people but they'd stopped asking questions years ago.

The truth of it was that the idea of being at the head of a table, being the centre of attention and in charge, so to speak, reminded Severus far too much of the many Death Eater meetings he'd attended. Now, he hated meetings of any kind. He dreaded them. And everyone knew it. He particularly hated early morning meetings because, as they all knew, Severus Snape was not a morning person. But this particular morning, he didn't have a choice. He had too much work to do to hide away in his rooms.

The staff room had a small table of food and drinks laid out by the house elves and each member of staff was sat around on the sofas or chairs. It looked more like a typical morning in a common room than a meeting to Harry.

"Where's the headmaster?" Harry asked Remus and the man smiled slightly.

"He'll be here," Remus assured him.

When he and Harry had joined the others in the staff room, Remus had made a mug of strong coffee which he'd not even touched. He'd kept it warm with magic, but he'd made no move to drink it.

At exactly eight in the morning, Severus came billowing through the door and Remus handed him the mug of coffee which surprised no one. The headmaster didn't even look twice at the offering. No one spoke as the man drank it, they seemed to be either exasperated or amused.

"Let's get this over with," Severus said after a minute and he sat down in a vacant seat by the warm fire.

The second after he set down his now empty mug on a table beside him, Madam Hooch spoke before anyone else had the chance. "We need new brooms, Severus," she declared and he sighed, as did several others.

"I've already told you," he began, "The budget..."

"Must surely cover it by now. I've been asking for years. The brooms we have now are old, too old to be used safely..."

"That's a little dramatic, surely," professor Sprout said.

"It's the students safety in question," Hooch said, "I don't think we want to be taking a risk like this."

"There has yet to be an accident caused by unsafe brooms," Severus remarked.

"So, you're saying we should wait until there is an accident before we get new ones?"

"No," the headmaster rolled his eyes. "The paper work alone would drive me to distraction," he said and people started to snicker.

"Severus," Minerva shook her head.

"I know nothing about brooms, safe or otherwise," Severus said after he glared at his deputy. "But you do. I'm sure you won't mind inspecting them," he said to Minerva.

"All of them?" she asked.

"All of them," he replied.

"There's over fifty," she pointed out.

"Then I suggest you get started," Snape shrugged and Madam Hooch looked thrilled. "However many you deem 'unsafe', the school will replace," he said.

"But how? The budget..."

"I'll deal with it," Severus said, though he had had no idea how. "If you get started after the meeting, you might be done in time for the sorting next month," he said, repressing a smirk.

"How wonderful," Minerva drawled.

"I believe the Assistant Professor is more than capable of helping you," he said, glancing at Harry.

"They'll need testing," she said to Harry who suddenly looked as happy as Madam Hooch.

"Test the brooms...sure," he replied.

"Wonderful," Madam Hooch beamed.

"Headmaster," professor Romulus Harrington, teacher of Muggle Studies began. "What about the schools' safety procedural manual?" he asked and several people groaned.

"What about it?" Severus asked in a disinterested tone.

"Well, I mean, shouldn't we read through it so that the new assistant professor...and everyone else is aware of..."

"You've been here for eight years," the headmaster sighed, "If you've not familiarised yourself with the book at all, I fail to see why I should sit through a reading of the world's most uninteresting book."

"But you're the headmaster! I know it, I've read the book cover to cover every year. I could probably recite it to you."

"Then what is the problem?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I think we should start doing some drills, fire drills things like that and..."

"So you want me to torture the entire school with your 'disaster drills'?"

"I'd hardly call it torture but, well, yes. I've been studying how things are done in muggle schools and..."

"This is not a muggle school...if you have yet to realise that I would suggest you start looking for another job," Severus told him but he didn't seem at all offended.

"I brought this for you to look at," the man continued. He then took out a simple muggle smoke alarm from his robes. While some of the professors, who had been in the wizarding world all theirs lives, looked intrigued and confused, Severus just raised an uninterested eyebrow. "It's called a..."

"A smoke alarm, yes, I have heard of it," Severus rolled his eyes.

"You have?" the professor seemed shocked, "How?"

"I'm a man of mystery," the headmaster replied, "But tell me, professor, what powers a smoke alarm?"

"Well...batteries, sir."

"And why is it that you have taught here for almost a decade and yet you fail to realise why we cannot have such technology in the castle?"

"But surely...they're only batteries, headmaster."

"You've tested the device?"

"Not in the castle, no," the man answered and watched as Severus held out his hand expectantly. Harrington gave the headmaster the device and watched as he then proceeded to hover it a metre or so away from him and then he took a piece of parchment and silently set it alight with his wand. The burning parchment was placed beneath the smoke alarm and within seconds of the flames and smoke reaching it, it exploded.

It was only a very small explosion but it seemed to give the demure professor a miniature heart attack.

Severus vanished both the remains of the paper and the plastic smoke alarm with a wave of his wand and a small, self satisfied smirk. "That is why we have no batteries here, Harrington," he said, "Technology and Hogwarts do not mix."

"...Yes, I...I understand, headmaster."

"You brought no more, I hope," Severus remarked.

"Erm...well, that is to say, I may have..."

"How many?" the pale wizard sighed.

"A dozen...maybe."

"A dozen batteries? No more?" Severus tried to confirm. Surely that wasn't as bad as he'd feared. It would be simple to banish only a dozen of them.

"A dozen...boxes of them...and about erm...fifty smoke alarms...headmaster," he said and Snape snorted in annoyance. This was why he hated meetings. He felt like a gloried babysitter of people who only existed to irritate him.

"Moron! What do you think will happen when the students descend and classes resume?!" Severus hissed as he paced in front of the professor.

"I didn't think..."

"Clearly," Severus scrubbed his hand down his face. "You will bring them all to me before the day is out and I will dispose of them and you are to spend an hour, at least, talking to your much more patient colleagues who are to explain to you, in detail, why we do not idly bring muggle technology into an ancient magical castle!"

"Yes...sir," the man nodded, sheepishly.

"And to make sure that it doesn't happen again, you will include this in your lessons from now on and endeavour to answer any and every question put to you by your students," the headmaster added.

"Of course...I'll do that."

Severus nodded curtly, seemingly pacified by his easy agreement and Minerva patted his knee gently as though comforting a student who'd just been scolded.

"Are meetings here always so...erm..." Harry muttered to Remus who had just been sitting calmly through the whole thing.

"You'll get used to it."

"If there is nothing further," Severus prompted.

"Well..there was one thing...headmaster," Slughorn began, "But it hardly seems worth..."

"What is it?"

"It can wait, I'm sure it can wait..." the older wizard trailed off, leaving the 'until you're in a better mood' to everyone's imagination but the implication made Severus' left eye twitch.

"Actually, Severus, it can't," Flitwick began with a grin, "You see, it..." he said but Slughorn promptly elbowed him, to quiet him down. Obviously, the gesture caught everyone's attention.

"I swear," Severus took a deep breath, "If you're about to tell me that you started a battery smuggling operation with Harrington..."

"No, no, nothing like that," the wizard protested, shaking his hands in front of him.

"Then what?"

"It's more like a goat smuggling operation, Severus," Flitwick exclaimed and most people in the room simply burst out laughing.

"Filius!" Slughorn scowled at him.

"He'd find out sooner or later," the Charms professor defended.

Severus took a deep breath and then another and repeated 'I will not go on a murderous rampage and kill all my staff' ten times in his head before he turned back to Horace.

"...A goat?" Severus demanded.

"Yes," Slughorn nodded, "It was the strangest thing, I was in the Hog's Head and..."

"Aberforth," the headmaster cursed.

"It **was** Aberforth who gave him to me, you see..."

"I don't care," Severus said quickly. "Where is this goat now?" he asked.

"It's...in the potions lab."

"You left an animal...unsupervised...in the potions lab," the man enunciated carefully. Everyone knew how much the headmaster still favoured his old classroom and they knew that Harrington wouldn't be the only one in for a lecture today. They just thought it was good entertainment.

"It's not entirely...I mean, it's on a leash..."

"The potions lab is not a petting zoo!" Severus growled while Minerva was fighting valiantly to keep from laughing, so too was Albus' portrait and many others that adorned the walls. Clearly people here had stopped fearing the wrath of Severus Snape a long time ago.

"Well, no, but a goat could be very useful..."

"So could a Hungarian Horntail but I didn't let Hagrid keep it on the grounds, did I?!"

"I hardly think a goat is as bad as a dragon, Severus," Minerva remarked and he glared at her.

"Are you planning on using it in NEWT level experiment on the exact procedure on how to remove a bezoar from its stomach?" Severus rounded on Horace.

"Well...I wasn't...no, I wasn't planning on it."

"What about showing the students how to remove the head and liver and boil them for use in an Evieris potion?"

"No, I...think that'll be just as unappealing to them as the first one, actually," Horace replied.

"Then what is the point of it?"

"I can use the goat's milk..."

"Hogwarts has yet to teach a cooking class," Severus said dismissively with a wave of his hand, "It will not start now. If you want to teach students to cook then you'll have do so in your own time."

"Goats milk can be used in potions," Horace defended.

"Name one," Severus challenged and the man visibly paled. "I'm waiting," he said after a moment.

"Well, I...there's the erm...no...not that one, I..." the larger man stammered and pursed his lip.

"Don't tell me your famous love of pineapple is now a love of goats milk?" the headmaster asked.

"Aberforth assured me that they're easy to look after..."

"He lets his animals run riot in his bar! Of course they're easy to care for when they're left to their own devices!"

"...That's true..."

"Severus..." Remus said, his lip twitching. "This doesn't have anything to do with that bet the two of you made last month...does it?" he asked.

"Not another word, wolf!" the man hissed.

"Who's betting? What bet?" Pomona asked, suddenly smiling and sitting up on the sofa. She, like many others, was suddenly very interested.

"Yes, Severus, do tell," Minerva said, "I'm sure we'd love nothing more than to learn about your gambling habits."

"If I remember rightly, there was..." Remus said with a wistful look in his eyes.

"Keep talking and you'll end up as a wolf skin rug in my office before you can say 'howl'."

"...Four bottles of Odgen's strongest Firewhiskey..." the werewolf continued, pausing for a moment only to chuckle at Severus' comment. "Three glasses of claret...two goblets of imported Russian vodka..."

"And a partridge in a pear tree?" Severus growled and Harry couldn't help himself now. He laughed. He'd tried so valiantly not to but now he simply couldn't stop even with Snape glaring at him.

"And the underside of one of the tables at the back of the bar," Remus finished with a smile. "Now I come to think about it, I remember him saying that if you lost, you'd have to take one of his..."

"What part of 'be quiet' don't you understand?!" Severus yelled at him.

"And you did lose," the werewolf said to him, "Didn't you?"

"Yes, I lost the damn bet!" Severus slumped down in his chair again and growled. "Happy now, wolf?!"

"Should the headmaster of a school be gambling?" Harrington asked, seeming to find his backbone for a moment.

"Go and...test your smoke alarms, Harrington," Severus grumbled at him, "And hope they don't explode in your face!"

"Don't look at me, Severus," Albus' portrait said, his moustache twitching as Severus scowled at him. "You should know better than to make bets with Aberforth. It's hardly my fault."

"He's **your** brother!"

"It was **your** bet."

"You never told me he drinks like a sailor!"

"I didn't think I'd have to," Albus retorted.

"Honestly," Poppy sighed next to Minerva.

"Shhhh," the deputy head muttered, good-naturedly.

"Why did you take the bet, anyway? Haven't you learned before now that you never try and out drink a bartender?" the portrait lamented.

"Yes, surely everyone knows that," Horace nodded.

"You're hardly in a position to judge," Severus snapped.

"Yes, particularly after what happened last Christmas," Sinstra snickered.

"What happened last Christmas?" Harry asked.

"Horace got drunk in the Three Broomsticks and somehow made his way back to the castle and he ended up singing 'I'm Merlin the happy pig' through the entire school," Remus answered him.

"It was hardly through the **whole** school, and the castle was practically empty anyway..." the man muttered, blushing.

"Maybe it's not fire drills we need after all," Harrington muttered to professor Sprout.

"Well...what about you, Romulus! I'm sure we all remember what happened three years ago on St Andrew's Day," Horace said, trying to save face.

"We **are** in Scotland. I was only trying to be gracious to the school," he shot back, haughtily, "It's a national holiday."

"So is Christmas!"

"Well, I..."

"Enough," Severus sighed, rubbing his eyes using his thumb and his middle finger with his face covered by his hand. "One more word...and I'm cancelling both Christmas and St Andrew's day."

"But I..." Horace stammered at the same time as Romulus said, "But he..."

Severus moved his hand to glare at them both and they seemed to deflate as they both said 'Yes, headmaster' simultaneously.

"But...Severus...what about the goat?" Flitwick asked once he'd stopped chortling.

"I'll not be made to house a goat in this castle," the man snapped.

"You could let Hagrid keep it," Harry suggested. "It'd still be on the castle grounds and I'm sure he wouldn't mind," he said.

"An excellent idea, Harry," Horace beamed, "I knew you were always a clever one."

"Where is he, anyway?" Harry asked, "He's still a professor isn't he?"

"Romania," Minerva said, "I thought you knew."

"No..."

"He hatched another dragon," Remus smiled. "Some of the students found out and...well, word travels fast," he said.

"...A Hungarian Horntail?" the younger wizard guessed, remembering Snape's earlier comment.

"A Hungarian Horntail," the werewolf nodded, "He should be returning next week."

"In the meantime," Severus said, "Horace you will keep the beast out of the potions lab."

"Of course."

"Should it break anything, you will replace it."

"Me? But you were the one who...right, right...I'll just...right..." the man stammered when he was the victim of another patented Snape glare. "If you don't need me...I'll just go and check on...something..." he said before practically running off back to the dungeons.

"Should anyone decide to give me any good news, they'll be exempt from monitoring the hallways for a month," Severus sighed.

At this, everyone suddenly seemed deep in thought and people shared eager glances at each other.

"Well..." Harrington began, cautiously. "I did have another idea...I met a muggle and he told me all about how he'd done trust exercises at work. It sounded rather interesting, you see there was this 'falling backwards' one where a colleague behind you has to catch you when you fall backwards..."

"Why would someone be falling backwards?" Pomona asked, confused.

"To show the person behind them that they trust them enough to catch them."

"Wouldn't it be better to start a duelling club and have people agree to be your second? Surely that'd inspire more confidence," Filius suggested.

"That's not really..."

"Congratulations, professor," Severus said, looking at Harrington, "Now you're on double monitoring duty."

"But I..." Romulus sighed as Pomona laughed heartily and patted him on the back.

"There's no good news, then?" the headmaster asked.

"Like what?" Minerva said.

"...The school year is cancelled, perhaps," he suggested.

"In that case, no, there is no good news," she smirked.

"Then get out of my sight, all of you," Severus said, but without a hint of malice and everyone just seemed to take it in their stride.

A stunned Harry stayed seated when Remus and Minerva made no move to leave with the others.

"So...the goat bet, Severus?" Minerva smirked. "Aberforth challenged me to that bet once and even I wasn't drunk enough to take it. Just how much had you drank before he asked you?" she asked and he just growled.

"He came close to winning," Remus remarked, "It was that last glass of vodka that sent him under the table. Aberforth himself was out of it about two minutes after."

"Well, if you almost out drank him, remind me never to share my Scotch with you again," she chuckled quietly.

"Why don't you join us next time, Harry," Remus grinned.

"I..."

"Yes, you could stop Severus from taking another of those ridiculous bets before Hogwarts ends up housing all of Aberforth's goats," Minerva added.

"I thought I told you **all** to leave," Severus bemoaned.

"And we are," she nodded, looking to Harry. "We have brooms to test, don't we?" she smiled and lead him out of the room.

* * *

A.N. A big, big thank you to those of you reviewing! They really make my day :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	16. Mid November 1998

Vampires in the Forest

Mid November 1998

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had always held his own 'court' with the same two people in his office for years; Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape. The two were opposites and yet both so fiercely loyal that he'd valued their opinions more than anyone else's. The two of them had formed a strange camaraderie over many a night spent watching the old wizard pace about in a state of unbridled agitation or leaning over his pensive with the pale blue light illuminating his aged features, too deep in thought to even speak to them.

Now, Severus Snape did the same. He was leaning over with his hands resting on either side of the pensive as he stared into its misty contents. Even if it didn't offer him any solutions, it calmed him a little.

Minerva was pacing while Remus and Tonks were sat at his desk. He couldn't quite believe that his own warped version of Dumbledore's 'court' consisted of a werewolf and his wife, who was gently rocking her son to sleep on her lap, as well as the Scottish harpy responsible for driving him out of the school. His usual little court however did not tend to include three foolish young adults, otherwise known as the Golden Trio, who stood not far from his desk.

"You can't be serious," Minerva remarked, not for the first time that night.

"I'm perfectly serious," the headmaster told her, again.

"I don't believe you."

"So you've said."

"I keep saying it in the hope that you'll come to your senses and tell me that this is all some kind of joke!"

"I rarely joke," he said, dryly.

"It could be a side effect of your medication," she threw up her hands in frustration.

"I think not."

"Sleep deprivation?" Minerva chanced.

"I'm used to it," Severus told her with a nonchalant shrug.

"Lack of food?"

"I ate less than an hour ago. You were there," he retorted and she let out a sigh which almost sounded like a growl.

"As your deputy headmistress, I cannot condone it," she said most emphatically.

"I'll let you know when this becomes a democracy," Severus raised his eyebrow elegantly at her. By now, they were well accustomed to the headmasters daily, some would even argue, overuse, of sarcasm and dry wit. At first it had been a shock for them to learn that the 'Bat of the Dungeons' had a wicked sense of humour, but now it was difficult to imagine the man without it.

"Curse you and your blasted sarcasm, Severus, this is not the time! Vampires are dangerous. And you still haven't recovered from everything else," Minerva stated.

"I'm perfectly fine."

"I'm afraid, my dear boy, that I must agree with Minerva," Albus' portrait said, "It's not worth the risk."

"Of course it's worth the risk! Don't lie to me," Severus sneered at the portrait. "If it was your choice, you'd take the chance or you'd be telling me to take it for you...And if you three weren't so intent on becoming spies yourselves I could've been spared this headache!" he added after turning to the three students.

"I swear, we didn't mean to hear any..." Harry began, but Snape ignored him.

"It's not worth risking your life!" Albus reiterated at the same time.

"Albus, you're a hypocritical fool even in death!" the man rounded on the portrait. "You know full well that I am well acquainted with dangerous situations. My...position demanded it. Information does not come without risk or without a price. The Aurors have failed. They have found two dead Death Eaters and left the worst one alive! He's killed three people...that the Ministry knows of...and there will be more every week until he is caught!"

"But you are a spy no longer, it is not your responsibility..."

"Then whose is it?

"The Ministry..."

"And they have failed. I'd rather not start another year surrounded by Aurors; they're just as suspicious of me as they are of him. Demetrius has proven himself to be a reliable source of information in the past..."

"You've done this before?!" Minerva exclaimed.

"I am...was...a spy. My purpose was to gather information. Where do you think it came from? The sky?"

"But vampires, Severus?"

"Why, Minerva," the man crossed his arms, smugly. "I never thought you were the prejudice sort," he said, silkily.

"Don't you start that with me young man..."

"I am your superior," he reminded her and she hissed again, furious.

"I fear I know the answer," Remus began, quietly, "But what did this Demetrius want in return for his information?"

"Tea and scones," Severus answered perfectly seriously and the werewolf gave him a sad, knowing look.

"How many times?"

"More than enough."

"You fed it...more than once?" Minerva demanded, wide eyed, "That's illegal! Not to mention dangerous...of all the reckless, irresponsible..."

"Won't their bite...make you one of them?" Hermione asked, quietly.

"Ordinarily, yes," Severus answered.

"Then why aren't you..." Tonks stared at him.

"I'm pretty sure he is..." Ron grumbled and Hermione elbowed him in the stomach.

"I assure you, Weasley, I am not," he scowled at the nervous red head.

"How?" Remus asked.

"I...have a potion. If taken directly after being bitten it counters the effects," Severus told them.

"I've never heard of such a potion," Minerva remarked.

"It's of my own design."

"Well, it could save lives. Perhaps you should..."

"It would not save lives," the headmaster stated with confidence. "It is a poison to which I built up a certain degree of tolerance before I was first bitten. It's not to be used lightly."

Some would argue that perhaps his potion was not entirely successful. He was pale, he wasn't a fan of the sunlight and his favourite place in the castle was the dungeons. Maybe some inherent vampire traits had seeped through a little. On occasion the sun did hurt his eyes. Certainly for the first few weeks after being bitten he usually had a hypersensitivity to sunlight. But he wasn't a vampire, so at least as far as the worst of it was concerned, he'd been rather successful.

"You **were** very thorough, weren't you?" Albus sighed.

"Poison!" Minerva repeated.

"Calm down, you're giving me a migraine," Severus shook his head at her.

"I'll show you a 'migraine'..." the witch glared at him. The last time she'd been so furious with him was when she'd forced him from the castle. If it had come down to a fight to death, Severus had been rather afraid that he'd have ended up hurting her, even accidentally, so he'd fled and faced the Dark Lord's painful wrath. He'd have been expected to kill her mercilessly like the Death Eater he was, and he simply hadn't been able to. Seeing her so angry now wasn't something that Severus enjoyed.

"There's absolutely no doubt in my mind, Severus," Albus' portrait began, calmly, "That that you were the most accomplished and successful spy this country has ever produced since sir Francis Walsingham. He was actually a wizard himself you know and he..."

"I don't need a history lesson, I know who he was," Severus snapped.

"Naturally you do, I'd expect nothing less. But what I was meaning to say, was that like Walsingham himself, you have an impressive network of sources. Surely there is another with the information, one that is less likely to see you as their main course."

"I've tried...there's no one. There's nothing. This is the first time I've heard anything at all and I can't afford to simply do nothing," the pale wizard dropped his head over the pensive, "I don't have any other choice."

"There's always a..."

"Not in this case."

"You've always been so stubborn," the portrait lamented, fondly, "But poison?"

"It was...necessary. Vampires can get information that no one else can and I don't have anything else to bargain with. The poison destroys their...infection but because of my immunity, it doesn't kill me."

"You never mentioned it before."

"You never asked about my...methods," Severus retorted and the man nodded, sadly.

"...Well...you are determined to do this, aren't you? Very well, I cannot stop you. When is this...meeting?" Albus asked after taking a deep breath.

"Friday night," Severus answered.

"In the forest?"

"The furthest north as it's possible to get without leaving the grounds but outside of the wards. There's a small clearing by a stream."

"Ah, yes, I know it," Albus nodded, "A beautiful spot. It is, however, a fair distance from the castle should things go wrong."

"I can't allow him to come any closer," Severus replied.

"You misunderstand, Severus, I meant that you might not be able to return across such a distance if you are injured...Though, I know, that's never stopped you in the past. That's why I ask...no, I beg you..."

"Don't..." Severus shook his head, glancing over at their rapt audience. He'd already spoken freely enough, he wasn't sure how much more his pride could take.

"Yes, Severus, I beg you not to do this. I've seen you return injured too many times. The war is over, my dear boy, it's done. Finished. You have had the extremely good fortune to survive it and you're free now..."

"You're exaggerating."

"I'm telling you the truth. I saw you return after every one of your...meetings, either with the Death Eaters, with Lord Voldemort or your informants and I don't see why you would want to continue..."

"I don't 'want' to, I 'have' to," Severus said and then looked over at his others who had been so silent in his office. "And none of you...will inform the Ministry of this," he told them.

"No, I'll simply inform Hagrid and I'll have him sit on you until next week," Minerva remarked, "If that's what it takes, by Merlin, I'll do it."

"I remind you that as headmaster I can apparate here regardless of the threat of suffocation," he replied.

"I mean it, Severus," she said, "I won't allow you to do this, if you're caught..."

"The only way I will be caught is if any of you is responsible."

"But..." Minerva began much more quietly as she approached him and glanced at Harry and his friends, "They're children and conspiring like this to...feed...an unregistered vampire, one who's already on the Ministry's radar and risk infecting yourself is just too dangerous. If this..."

"They are not children, legally, they are adults capable of making their own decisions. As am I," Severus said.

"But it's conspiracy at the very least! Withholding information that could lead to the capture of a wanted criminal...misleading the course of justice..." Minerva listed.

"The course of justice," Severus mocked, "Dictates that the Death Eater on a murderous rampage is far more dangerous than a hedonistic vampire. And besides, I am a wanted criminal too. If you turn us in it won't only be Demetrius who gets arrested."

"You wouldn't be..."

"Meeting with an unregistered vampire, not only with the intent of feeding it, but also with prior knowledge of said vampires' whereabouts and a means of contacting him...that's more than enough to land a man in Azkaban even without my record."

"He's right," Remus spoke up. "I don't like the idea, Severus...any of it. But we don't have another choice. I'm sorry to say that...I agree with you on this."

"I'll contact the Daily Prophet," he drawled, "I feel certain that it would make the front page."

"But...I'll be going with you," the werewolf added, confidently.

"Unwise," Severus said, simply.

"Maybe," the man nodded, "But I'm still going."

"I could stop you," the headmaster threatened, menacingly.

"I don't doubt that," Remus smiled, "But I'd give it my best shot. I dare say I'd slow you down a little and you can't afford any more injuries if you're to face a vampire."

"You enjoy making my life a misery, don't you?" Severus glared.

"If Remus goes, then I go," Tonks told him.

"Fine, there's the door," the man waved his pale hand across the room.

"Not 'go' 'go'," she sighed, "As in 'go'. 'Go' as in..."

"Stop saying 'go'," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," Tonks muttered, "But you get my point."

"What of your child?" the headmaster stared at the couple, "Surely his needs come before your own ridiculous need to smother me."

"We're going with you," Remus said in a tone of finality.

"I feel safer already."

* * *

Late on Friday night, Harry Potter walked quickly beside his friends Ron and Hermione with Remus, Tonks and Minerva behind them and Severus in front, leading the way. It was pitch black so no one was really sure just how he knew where he was going as they'd left the lights of Hogwarts far behind them. They'd been walking through the forest for at least half an hour now and Harry knew that Snape was still angry with them. He was angry that Harry and his friends had found out about his meeting and that they'd insisted on accompanying him.

"You're too loud," Snape said, quietly.

"We're not even talking," Ron pointed out.

"You're walking like a heard of elephants," the headmaster replied, "They'll hear you before you even see them."

"We can't see anything," Harry said, "How can you?" He was slightly curious as to why exactly Snape was walking without making a sound, he wasn't treading on leaves or branches that crunched underfoot like they were.

"Practice," Snape replied, simply.

"Can't we just use one 'lumos'?" Ron asked.

"No," the man sighed and whipped his eyes over to the clearing they'd reached.

At the other end, shrouded in the shadows, was a group of six vampires. They were stood amongst the trees right at one edge of the large clearing illuminated only by the moonlight and the stars and at the opposite end.

"Don't do anything stupid," Snape warned Harry, speaking slowly as he glanced down at the three students. "Don't look directly into their eyes. Don't make any sudden movements. Don't interfere...and don't let them see that you're afraid."

"Easier said than done," Harry replied, giving the wizard a weak smile.

Snape said nothing further as he walked out into the clearing, the six of them following slowly behind him. At the same time, one of the vampires began to emerge from the shadows while the others trailed behind.

In the centre of the clearing, Snape stood opposite the leader of the other five vampires; Demetrius. The others present were within hearing distance, but they were stood back from the meeting.

"Demetrius," Snape greeted the vampire.

"I thought you were to come alone, Severus," Demetrius replied, tilting his head as he appraised the people standing behind the headmaster. He was, like all vampires, incredibly pale with dark sunken eyes and glistening fangs. He had grimy black hair and his clothes had probably seen better days but despite this, he looked imposing and dangerous.

"I could say the same."

"Ah," the vampire breathed, "I had...a slight change of plan."

"How fortunate, that I did as well," Snape said and Demetrius smiled at him.

"You brought a werewolf," the vampire stated, "I should probably be offended."

"It's house trained," the wizard replied much to the vampire's amusement.

"Well, then, unfortunately, I have a rather dear friend in need of your help. He met with a - shall we say - an accident. I keep telling him not to play with his food," he chuckled. "He really does appear rather unwell, doesn't he?" he said, looking over at one of the other vampires. It was a young man with the same dark features that seemed inherent in all vampires, wearing a blood splattered and dirt covered suit and a torn travelling cloak.

"Did his food fight back?" Severus asked, with a twitch of his lip.

"Not for long," Demetrius answered.

"Long enough."

"Quite," the vampire said. "I don't suppose...anyone over there is...on the menu? They smell much more healthy than you...except the mutt, of course. We are not quite that desperate," he remarked with greedy eyes.

"Try it...and you'll see just how 'healthy' I am," Severus glared at him, brandishing his wand.

"Just a thought," Demetrius raised his hands.

"Tell me what you know," Snape demanded and the two began to take slow steps, circling each other, never breaking eye contact as they moved.

"Your friend, Lestrange, he's clever," Demetrius remarked, "We saw him just after he killed that poor, young muggle last week. A tragedy really," he mocked. "Can you see?" he asked, referring to Snape's use of Legilimency. "I have proof," he added, slowly taking a wand from his robes.

"Whose?"

"See for yourself," Demetrius said, kneeling to place the wand on the ground at his feet. He then moved slowly backwards and for each stride he took, Snape took one forwards until he knelt down to pick up the wand.

He pointed his own wand at it for a second and silently stared at it, then he looked back up at the vampire. "Lestrange's," Snape confirmed.

"Hmmm," Demetrius nodded smugly and regarded the wizard with a toothy grin.

"Is he dead?" Severus asked him as he hid the other wand in his robes.

"No."

"A pity. Is that all?"

"That is all," the vampire nodded and the wizard sighed, standing up slowly.

Demetrius waved minutely over at Mikhail who trudged over to them and stood at his master's side. "Mikhail...dinner," he said in a way that would come to haunt Severus' nightmares for many, many months.

A wounded vampire was a dangerous predator and it flew towards him much quicker than Nagini had slithered to Charity Burbage but he couldn't ignore the similarity. Neither could he ignore the fact that the fangs of a vampire were very much like the fangs of that same snake which had almost killed him. But information always had a price and there were worse ways to get it. He'd made a deal and he had to stick to it. He had a flawless yet ruthless reputation among his sources. He always kept his word but woe betide the informant that didn't.

Severus' already much abused neck bled profusely without much effort on Mikhail's part but that didn't stop the vampire's ruthlessness, nor did he expect it to. Out of necessity he'd fed vampires too many times to count and it never got any easier. It was a horrible feeling and Severus hated it. He hated being weak, he hated being seen as simply someone's 'prey.'

With what was left of the skin of his neck being torn to shreds he raised his arm weakly and grabbed the throat of the feeding predator and squeezed. The vampire hissed but it hardly slowed him down.

"Do try not to kill the headmaster," Demetrius said in a rather insulting, off hand hand manner as he stalked closely around them both with a smile.

"Your concern...is...touching," Severus managed to gasp. He closed his eyes and so missed the wide grin on the elder vampire's face.

"Is it my fault that you people are so fragile?" he asked, rhetorically.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm allowing this to happen," Minerva sighed, looking away.

"It's not like you didn't try to stop him," Tonks said.

"How long has it been?" Remus asked, tense.

"Twenty seconds," Harry answered after a quick spell.

"That will have to do," Minerva declared, taking out her wand and moving quickly out into the clearing.

When she and the others reached the centre, Demetrius and his followers hissed at them, brandishing their sharp teeth and the noise was enough to make Severus open his eyes.

"Fools!" he hissed, "Don't...interfere!"

"It's been long enough...any longer and you'll..." Minerva began.

With an almost blinding flash of light, Severus forced the vampire away from his neck and he landed at least ten feet away on the grass. He jumped to his feet and hissed menacingly at the wizard but Demetrius put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from advancing. Without saying a single word, the vampire shrank back to the others leaving Demetrius standing before Severus who was by now, breathing heavily with his left hand clutching at his bleeding neck and his right was holding his wand up at the vampire.

"I don't need your 'help'," the dark wizard growled at them, still with his eyes on the vampire. "Now get back!" he ordered.

"Indeed you don't need them," Demetrius said, "So why did you bring them?"

"Why did **you** bring so many others?" Severus countered.

"These are...uncertain times. I needed to be sure that you would not turn me over to the Ministry. I needed...insurance. Now that I know just which side you've been all these years, I wasn't quite sure that you'd honour our...agreements."

"And now?"

"Now, I still think...you'd make a rather fine addition to my little family," Demetrius smirked.

"No," Severus grimaced.

"Ah, well, next time, perhaps."

"Not likely."

"We shall see. Age catches up to you, you see. One day, you'll understand that what I offer is a gift," he said but Severus just scoffed at him as the vampire left, his 'little family' following him. He didn't lower his wand arm until they'd vanished completely into the shadows and all trace of adrenaline and strength left him at the same time.

* * *

"Was that worth it, Severus?" Minerva asked gently as she took his limp wand arm around her shoulder. He turned his tired gaze away from her disapproving yet sympathetic eyes and removed his shaky arm from around her shoulder.

"I don't...expect you to...understand," he muttered.

"Oh, I understand," she nodded, watching the man as he stood on uncertain legs. "I understand that the words 'personal safety' and 'self preservation' are not in your vocabulary," she said.

"My safety...is of little...consequence," Severus hissed as Remus sealed the wounds with his wand. He then forced the werewolf's hands away and fumbled in his robes for a phial of black liquid. With unsteady, bloodstained hands he removed the cork and drank its contents then uttered a foul curse after he forced himself to swallow it.

"Did you at least learn something useful?" the werewolf asked.

"Of course," Severus glared.

"The rest of us are not nearly as accomplished at Legilimency, so you'll have to enlighten us," the other wizard replied, calmly.

"There isn't...time," the headmaster replied. He forced Remus' hand away and silently conjured bandages which wrapped themselves around his neck. It wasn't the best idea to leave the wound so untreated, but he didn't have a choice; he had a solid lead and he couldn't afford to waste it.

"What'd you mean there isn't..." Harry began to ask but before he could finish, Severus had apparated and he was gone.

* * *

As each day passed and with no sign of Severus returning anytime soon, there were new rumours every day to explain his absence and they'd got increasingly ridiculous as time wore on. Harry stared at the Marauders map every second when he wasn't in class and even then, he managed to sneak a few glances when people weren't looking. Well, Remus noticed him in Defence, but he didn't say anything.

On the morning of the seventh day, however, when Harry was reading the Quibler over his breakfast in the Great Hall, he saw the rather large headline that bore Lestrange's name and he called for his friends to read the article with him.

"They caught him," Harry told them, "The Ministry's got Lestrange."

"It's in the Prophet too," Hermione said, gesturing to the newspaper. They'd been reading them all week and it looked as though it had paid off as they were among the first to discover the news.

At that moment, Fawkes burst into the room and swooped down at the teachers' table where Minerva was sat. It circled her a few times but she seemed to get the message fairly quickly for she stood and was lead out of the Hall by the beautiful Phoenix.

Without a word, Harry had followed her and by definition so had his two friends, though Ron had saw fit to carry a piece of toast with him as he ran.

They were lead to the headmasters' office and they rode the spiral staircase with the deputy head despite her reluctance. Inside, they found Snape kneeling on the floor, shying away from the light that streamed in through the windows. His clothes were dirty and he had a a dark smattering of stubble on his cheeks. The bandage at his neck was stained in old, dried blood but other than that, there didn't seem to be any other wounds.

"Fawkes, you bloody menace," the man hissed at the bird, "I told you to close the curtains not fetch the Gryffindor cavalry!"

"Professor..." Harry said, moving towards the man.

"Go away, Potter!" Severus growled. He looked up at the young man and winced when his eyes were met with almost blinding sunlight.

"What on earth is the matter, Severus?" Minerva knelt by his side and tried to help him up but he shrugged her off. He didn't say anything as he closed his eyes again. "Well, make yourselves, useful," she said to the three students, "Close the curtains."

They did so but not without first sharing a look of confusion between them and once the room was in darkness, Minerva waved her wand and ignited the oil lamps scattered about the room. "Better?" she asked him and he nodded once. "Now, please, explain yourself," the witch demanded as she, ignoring his protests, helped him to sit at his desk.

"Light sensitivity," he grumbled when he was sat down, "Happens...sometimes." It was simply a side effect from being bitten by a vampire and not becoming one because of his potion. It usually went away after about two weeks, he knew from bitter experience.

"Explain where you have been," Minerva sighed. "Not one word from you for a week, Severus. A week! We had Order members out looking for you every day! What were you doing?"

"The Ministry's job," Severus told her. He began to unwind the bandage from around his neck and blessedly the vampire bite was healed now. The scar from having his throat cut was still shockingly visible though and since it had recently been reopened, it wasn't likely to disappear anytime soon.

"You... **you** found Lestrange?" Harry guessed, "It was in the papers...we've only just seen it. But the Prophet says that the Ministry found him, there wasn't..."

"Silence," the man muttered, sitting back in his chair, refusing to show anymore weakness than he already had. He may appear as though he had the worst hangover of the century, but he could still intimidate. "You three," he said to the Golden Trio, "Will leave my office...at once. That's not a request!"

"But, sir, please..." Harry began.

"I said, now!" Severus yelled, standing up and slamming his hands on the desk. He wasn't usually one for such displays, but it got his message across and the students left.

"Now, tell me everything, please," Minerva said once they were gone.


	17. 25th November 1998

A Volatile Visit

25th November 1998

* * *

Gawain Robards was a tall man with a large scar down the right side of his face and his slightly greying, brown hair was brushed back, neatly. He was dressed smartly and usually he could intimidate almost any one. *1 The Minister who stood beside him had always been an exception and so too was Severus Snape. The dark wizard wasn't at all intimidated by the Head of the Auror Office and he'd matched Gawain's blue eyed glare with a dark stare of his own.

"You had no right to interfere," the Auror glared at him.

"I had no choice!" Severus hissed back, "Your incompetence made certain of that."

"We're down to less than half the Auror's we're supposed to have..."

"Gawain, please," Kingsley sighed and turned to Severus. "I'm very grateful for what you've done, Severus. We both are. I don't know how you did it...and if I asked I know you wouldn't tell me."

"Because it was very likely illegal," Gawain scowled but said nothing further after a glance from Kingsley.

"Whether it was or it wasn't, we can't argue with the results, can we?" the Minister said to him.

"...I suppose not, Minister," the man ground out, though clearly it took a lot of effort.

"Will there be a trial?" Minerva asked, speaking up.

"There'll have to be, even if it is a foregone conclusion," Kingsley answered.

"My name is not to be mentioned," Severus said.

"I'll do what I can, if that's what you want," Kingsley promised him, "But if Lestrange chooses to tell the court that you found him...however you found him, then I might not be able to..."

"He'll have nothing to tell you."

"Alright," the man nodded. "But the Ministry won't forget this, I promise. You've done us a great service," he added but Snape just grimaced.

"If this were to become public knowledge, the Auror Office may never live it down!" Gawain lamented, "People already think that we were the ones responsible."

"And it's better to keep it that way, isn't it?" the headmaster sneered, "Merlin forbid that people realise just how useless you truly are."

"Now, see here," the Auror rounded on him, "I didn't come here to be insulted, especially not by a Death Eater," he hissed the words as though they were worst form of insult.

"This Death Eater just did your job for you," Severus retorted.

"You vile little..."

"Now that Lestrange is dealt with, there's no more need for the Aurors to patrol the school, isn't that right, Gawain?" Kingsley spoke quickly.

"I'd still rather they..."

"You did just say you needed more Aurors, didn't you?" Minerva asked, shrewdly.

"...Yes, fine," the man sighed, "I'll speak to them."

"I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall then," Kingsley said and the man grudgingly acknowledged his dismissal before he left without a word. "I'd apologise for Gawain...but you'd probably only glare at me," he said to Severus once the Auror was gone.

"He's as bad as Alastor...Merlin rest his soul," Minerva said. Alastor Moody had been famously distrustful of Severus and it had been no secret in the Order that the man had watched him like a hawk.

"He's a good man," Kingsley defended, "But he's been...preoccupied, lately."

"Haven't we all?" Snape growled.

"True," the man nodded, smiling. "I'll do my best to keep him out of Hogwarts," he added and Snape gave him a slight incline of his head. "I don't want to have to find someone to take his place quite yet, after all," he grinned.

"You've never had much luck when it comes to Aurors, have you, Severus?" Albus' portrait remarked.

"I wonder why," the man rolled his eyes.

"Before I forget," the Minister began. He placed a red pouch onto the headmasters' desk and it made a familiar, monentary sound.

"What...is this?" Severus drawled, eyeing the pouch with disdain.

"500 Galleons," Kingsley answered.

"For?"

"Well, for you," the man said, "It's the reward for information on Lestrange."

There had been a long standing reward offered by the Ministry in exchange for Lestrange's whereabouts or, indeed, any information at all. And since Kingsley was Minister, he could give the reward as he chose.

"Keep it."

"I'd rather you had it."

"No."

"You can use it towards the repairs," the Minister suggested.

"Most of it is finished."

"Buy some new...Quidditch stands then."

"We don't need any..."

"I'm sure, Hogwarts will accept such a gracious offer, won't it, headmaster?" Minerva turned to him and he sighed.

"If there's nothing further, Minister," Severus said to him as he smiled. The man just had to have said 'Quidditch', didn't he? Minerva's eyes practically gleamed with anticipation now.

"No, no, that's it," Kingsley nodded.

* * *

A.N. A review from BeholdTheMetatron1946 got me thinking about writing something where Snape is an Animagus but I'm not sure what animal he should be. I've read theories where he's a spider or a bat and I'd love to hear any theories you guys have as to what he could be and what could happen. I read about the spider theory, though personally I'd prefer something a little more impressive. Any and all ideas are welcome!

* * *

*1 I can't remember reading anything about Gawain Robards and there's no description of him on his wiki page so I improvised. If anyone remembers anything from the books, please let me know.


	18. 11th September 1998

Lesson One

11th September 1998

* * *

The new eighth years' common room had formerly been a teachers' lounge. It had been overrun with tiny creatures called Xindis which had been brought into the castle by an unwitting student over thirty years ago and then it had been abandoned when all efforts to rid the castle of the little creatures had failed. These small creatures looked like goblins only they were much smaller and much more annoying. They'd were rather like Pixies without wings and just as irritating as Poltergeists. Only after a great deal of persistence from the Hogwarts staff was the room finally fit for use. *1

Hagrid now had a small colony of Xindis living around his hut to use in one of his lessons so he was delighted. The eighth years were just happy to have somewhere quiet to sit in the evening and Severus was just relieved that he didn't have to scour the castle looking for a suitable common room anymore. The rest of the staff had proclaimed the need for a 'small' celebration when they'd actually managed to succeed.

The room was smaller than the usual common rooms but there was only fifty odd students that used it, so it didn't matter. It had a large fireplace so it was nice and warm, and access to their own dorms. What more did they need?

The curious, magical clock on the elaborately carved, stone mantle struck a quarter to eight and Harry began to close his text books.

"I think you're barking mad," Ron said, turning a page in the that book he wasn't really reading. He wasn't fooling anyone, Harry and Hermione knew he wasn't interested in reading about the potential dangers of potion brewing for his essay.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry muttered back.

"You're still goin', aren't you?" he asked, shocked.

"Course."

"Barkin' mad," Ron repeated.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and shook her head at him and then glanced over at Harry with a smile. "Good luck," she said to him, kindly.

"Thanks," Harry replied, genuinely.

"Yeah, good luck surviving that 'lesson'," Ron replied as Harry left, "If you don't come back, I get your broom!"

* * *

"Did you practice?" Severus asked Harry the instant he'd walked through the office door.

"Yes," Harry nodded, walking over to the desk.

"We'll see," the headmaster replied, simply.

* * *

For Harry, it had been an embarrassing hour. Snape had once again been able to sift through his memories with ridiculous ease and even worse, some of the first ones he'd seen had, in some way, been related to the man himself. There had been Quirrel in first year claiming that Snape had been protecting the young and very confused Harry. Then seeing Snape throw Lockheart aside with a simple Expelliarmus which had prompted Harry to adopt the spell with childish reverence. He'd also tried to protect Harry and his friends in third year when Remus had transformed, which, at the time, Harry hadn't thought much of.

After seeing all of these memories and more, Severus had said nothing, mercifully, and he'd just continued their lesson. On occasion, one of those memories would be repeated, but each time, the man was silent while Harry felt his embarrassment and his nervousness increase tenfold.

It wasn't only his own memories Harry saw too. As Snape tore through his mind again and again, the ones that seemed to aggravate the headmaster the most, were the ones that Harry had seen in the pensive. The memories that Snape had given him. Of course, Severus hadn't meant to give him so many memories but at the time he'd been dying and that had made it rather difficult to concentrate. When he saw himself as a relatively young man, begging Albus to somehow, someway, save Lily's life, his composure seemed to snap and he renewed his efforts with an almost manic energy.

"Concentrate, Potter," he hissed.

"I...am..." Harry insisted as Snape bombarded his way through Harry's mind again.

They found themselves in Grimmauld Place as Harry hugged Sirius and Snape sneered at him. "Pathetic," Snape grimaced and he withdrew from the young wizard's mind.

Harry sank into a chair and scrubbed a shaky hand through his messy hair. There wasn't a portrait in sight in Severus' private sitting room so none of the former headmasters would be able to rally to his aid as he breathed heavily, trying to avoid Snape's dark eyes.

Severus sighed heavily and pursed his lip. He didn't believe for a moment that Harry would be any more successful at Occlumency than he had the first time. The boy just wasn't suited to it. It was abundantly clear to anyone with half a brain.

"I...I really am trying, professor," Harry breathed, "I know you don't believe me...but I am."

"You should be showing signs of improvement," Snape told him as he stood before the fireplace. "At the very least you should be able to partially obscure a memory, even a single word, but you can't. I told you that you are not suited to..."

"I know!" the young wizard exclaimed angrily. "I know. I'm a terrible Occlumens...but you're not giving me a chance..."

"Stupid boy, anyone who wants to invade your mind isn't going to..."

"Voldemort's dead! Who else is..."

"Don't say his name!" Snape growled at him, menacingly.

"You-Know-Who then! But it sounds..."

"Fool!" Severus hissed, swooping forwards, grabbing Harry's sweat stained shirt and pinning him to the wall. "You have no idea...what happened to those of us who used the name! Only those with a death wish will say it...even now...No Death Eater will ever say it nor will you say it my presence!" he declared, seemingly ignorant of the fear in Harry's eyes.

"But...sir, he's..."

"Don't insult my intelligence, Potter, I know the Dark Lord is dead!" he snapped quickly, his grip tightening on Harry shirt.

Discretely, Harry tried to raise his wand in case he needed to defend himself in case the sudden manic anger of his professor manifested itself in an even more aggressive way but Snape made a slight move of his arm and the boy's wand was sent hurtling across the room.

"I..."

"If you say the name...one more time...you'll soon understand why I don't use it...I assure you."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, genuinely, "I won't say it again...not to you."

It was difficult for Harry to bite his tongue rather than argue back, but he didn't want to fight. It was hard enough trying to speak to Snape without adding insults and hexes but with the man looking at him with such anger, it was impossible. Ron thought he was crazy for even trying to be civil to Snape and at times, like now, Harry agreed with his friend. Snape was such an angry person but he had a right to be, didn't he?

Snape seemed genuinely surprised at his admission and it was enough to make the man release Harry and take a step back. The headmaster began to wonder if perhaps he'd managed to damage Harry's mind to make him agree so quickly.

He raised his simple black wand and without saying a word this time, he delved into the boy's mind, making sure that the feeble defences were undamaged and that he'd not done irreparable harm. It wasn't the memories he was looking at this time and Harry quickly noticed that but he didn't understand what Snape was doing neither could he force the strong presence from his mind. Fortunately, it withdrew quickly.

"What...what did you...what were you looking for, sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"Insanity," Snape answered simply.

"...Erm...why?"

"Because you are doing a fine imitation of it."

"Oh..." Harry muttered, stunned. The serious with which Snape spoke probably should have concerned him, it certainly set him on edge a little, and yet he couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Insanity is not funny, Potter," Snape said, his hand still clutching his wand.

"I've been called crazy before, sir," Harry remarked, watching as one of those very rare, barely noticeable smirks appeared on the man's face before it vanished completely. "What...what happened...to Death Eaters...to people who used...that name?" he asked, using all his Gryffindor courage.

"If they were lucky," Severus raised an eyebrow, "Death...eventually."

"And...if they weren't?" he asked, and Snape turned away from him, looking at the flames burning in the old grate instead. Subconsciously, he placed his right hand on his left forearm and gently flexed his fingers along his arm. "What's...is your arm hurting?" Harry asked. Severus glared at him but he didn't say anything. "It's just...well, you kept doing that...before, I mean, in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey didn't know why..." the young wizard continued as he glanced at Snape's forearm.

Instantly, Severus removed his right hand from his arm and rounded on the younger wizard again. He then, gracefully, pointed his wand at Harry.

"You have five minutes remaining," he drawled, "I suggest you use them wisely. Prove to me that you haven't wasted my time...if you can."

* * *

Five minutes later, Harry had been no more successful at Occlumency than he had been the first time, but with a solemn promise that he would practice Occluding before he slept, he left and Severus could breathe a sigh of relief. He walked back out into the main office where each set of eyes from the portraits settled on him instantly.

"Well, Severus?" Albus asked but the hark haired wizard shook his head.

"Nothing," he answered.

"Ah...well, you expected this. You've said from the beginning that Harry is not suited to Occlumency."

"Now, perhaps, do you believe me?"

"I never doubted you. I know it is a discipline that requires unquestionable emotional restraint that Harry simply isn't capable of. You are. But at the time of my initial request, we didn't have any other option. I had hoped..."

"The boy thinks he can use emotion as a means of defence," Severus scoffed.

"Because it worked rather well against Voldemort...I see," the man nodded and Severus grimaced on hearing the name. Albus knew that he hated hearing the name and yet still he persisted. Severus thought the old coot was doing it just to irritate him. "It won't work against anyone else, we both know that," Albus added.

"I could tear his mind to pieces and he wouldn't be able to stop me. He has fewer mental shields than a newborn infant."

"I see," the portrait hummed, thoughtfully. "Then what do you plan on doing about these 'lessons'?" he asked, "Harry did ask for two weeks to prove himself, didn't he?"

"He won't learn anything."

"I trust your judgement," Albus remarked, "If you say so, then I believe you." Severus regarded the portrait with a suspicious gaze which seemed to amuse Albus more than a little. "But...he did seem rather determined, didn't he?" the older man asked.

"The boy is foolish and emotional," Severus vented, "No amount of determination will make him a better Occlumens, he simply cannot learn."

"...Perhaps it isn't Occlumency that has him so focused..." Albus mused.

"What?"

"Nothing, Severus, nothing at all, dear boy. You and Harry are two of the most stubborn wizards I have ever met; between you, I'm certain you will be able to..."

"I knew it," Severus snapped, "You still want me to teach the boy even after everything I've said!"

"No one forced you to meet with Harry tonight," Albus pointed out.

"And I won't do it again."

"Well, if you're sure," Albus nodded.

Severus' suspicions only increased. He was rather confused. First the boy had agreed so easily earlier, even apologised and sworn never to say the Dark Lord's name in his presence. Now, Albus was being so agreeable. Were they both out to confuse him?

"Something wrong?" the portrait asked him.

The dark wizard shook his head, as though willing the craziness of both Albus and Harry from his mind and then he stormed off to his bed chamber, making sure to slam the door shut behind him.

"That could've been far worse, my friends," Albus said to his fellow portraits and they all nodded their agreement, eagerly.

* * *

*1 Xindis are, if it needed explaining, my own warped little creation.


	19. 20th August 1998

Burying the Hatchet?

20th August 1998

* * *

It was relatively late when Remus and Tonks finally managed to settle an excitable Teddy into his new bed in Hogwarts. They'd finished moving into the castle and Minerva had been the last one to leave their rooms for the night. So Remus made his way through the quiet castle up to the Headmaster's office.

There was no answer when he knocked on the door but he opened it and glanced around the dark room. "Hello?" he said as he stepped in and closed the door behind him quietly.

"Ah, Remus," Albus' portrait smiled at him, "A pleasure, as always."

"Albus," he smiled back, walking across to the desk.

"It's been a long time since there was a family living in Hogwarts," the old man remarked.

"So I've been told."

"I expect the castle's quite happy about it."

"The castle is...happy?" Remus reiterated, confused.

"Ah, of course, I never told you, did I? Forgive me. Well, this is a thousand year old castle, it has magic of its own, so it has a mind and voice of its own."

"And you can hear it?"

"Not anymore. But Severus can. It's probably been driving him out of his mind."

"I see. I haven't seen him, no one has."

"I suppose that's to be expected. Hogwarts tends to be quite overwhelming when it's happy," Albus nodded. "If you came here to talk to Severus, I feel it only right to warn you that he might not be at his most patient after having the castle singing and dancing inside his head all day."

"I think I'll manage," Remus smiled.

"I'd expect nothing less," the old man smiled back, his painted eyes managing to twinkle even on the canvas. "Try in there," he said, pointing with his hand to a door deep inside the office.

It lead to a small but beautiful sitting room with a fireplace and the grand stone arches that were so prominent in the main office but which were repeated throughout the headmasters' rooms.

"Go away, wolf," Severus said quickly as soon as the door had opened.

"Albus tells me you've probably got a headache," Remus said, "Do you want me to fetch you anything? A potion?"

"...Don't you think I would have tried a potion?" he snapped.

"They don't help?" Remus asked.

"And neither does your infernal chattering."

"I didn't know that the castle could talk," the werewolf remarked and sat down in one of the worn looking armchairs by the fire.

Severus himself was sat there, reclining back comfortably with a half empty glass tumbler in his right hand. "May I?" Remus asked, gesturing to the decanter resting on a small table in front of him. He, like many other courageous individuals, had found that a direct approach was really the only one that worked when it came to Severus Snape but it was risky and not everyone was up to the challenge.

"No," Severus answered, but the other wizard had already conjured a glass for himself and filled it.

"Whiskey," Remus said after taking a sip. "A present from Minerva?" he asked. The deputy headmistress was about as famous for her love of whiskey as Severus was infamous for his frequent foul moods.

"Every year," the headmaster said, scowling at him and then looking away when Remus suddenly smiled.

"...I always did like this room," he declared, settling into his chair. "Didn't there used to be portraits?" he asked, looking around.

"Several."

"You moved them?"

"They were noisy," Severus retorted, pointedly.

"Ah," he nodded back. "Albus used to being me here after my transformations sometimes, if it had been particularly bad. We used to have tea," he said, taking another sip of whiskey.

Despite the fact that Severus didn't look at all interested, Remus didn't take offence. He knew he was rather pushing his luck in being here at all and now he was testing the man's patience by inviting himself into his private rooms and drinking his whiskey. But Remus wanted things to be different this time around. He didn't want his time as a teacher to be spent avoiding his employer. If possible he wanted to be civil at the very least. And he knew that it would take a lot of effort on his part to get to that stage. Severus was not a forgiving man nor was he a patient one but fortunately, Remus was very patient indeed.

"I don't drink tea," Severus said. He still wasn't looking at Remus, he was staring into the fire with his dark eyes but again, the werewolf wasn't offended.

"No, I know," Remus nodded. "I wanted to thank you again for this, for giving me this job, for letting Tonks and Teddy stay here. It'll be good for them."

The headmaster only let out a derisive snort and then drained the contents of his glass before refilling it. "I mean it, Severus, I really am grateful. I can't thank you enough. I know you didn't have to let them come and maybe you did only hire me because you couldn't find anyone else but...still, thank you," Remus told him.

"You're trying to compete with the castle, aren't you?" Severus grumbled, raising a black eyebrow.

"I'm what?"

"To see which of you can irritate me more."

"Who's winning?" Remus asked but he didn't get an answer. "Well, if I'm not, I should keep trying. My wife would never let me live it down if I lost to a castle," he chuckled. "You know, Tonks has her first lesson planned out. She wants to start some duelling, just some basic defensive spells. I expect Filius will hear about it soon and they'll start asking you about a duelling club. Does he still ask about that?"

Filius Flitwick had asked about staring a duelling club every year since he began teaching and it still irritated the Charms professor that the only year in which they'd had some duelling had been the year that they'd had to put up with Lockheart.

"Not for a while," Severus answered, slowly.

"Well, consider yourself forewarned," Remus replied, "Between them, they'll make sure you never get a moment's peace." Severus closed his eyes and placed his empty glass onto the floor at his feet. "How's your head?" the werewolf asked.

"...Why are you here?" Severus asked, forlornly, his dark eyes blinking open at him.

"Well, to see you, of course," he replied and watched as the other wizard scoffed at him. "People have been asking about you all day," he said. "Molly sent some food for you. I left it with the house elves," he added after a minute, "Apparently you need to eat more. She says the same thing to Harry."

"She is aware that the castle has a kitchen?" Severus asked, sarcastically.

"She means well," Remus said, seriously.

"Hmmm," the man mumbled to himself.

"And she is a good cook."

"Hmmm," Severus repeated.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything further until Remus leant forwards, toying with the glass between his callused and scared hands.

"...Look, Severus, I erm," he began lightly, "I **did** come here to thank you...but I want to do this right. I like it here and if you'll let me, I want to work here for as long as I can, or at least until it becomes too difficult to justify keeping a werewolf on the payroll. I know it didn't mean anything to you the first time...but I'm sorry. I truly am. I'll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe me. What we did to you when we were children was..."

"Get out," Severus growled at him.

"I don't mean to...I just...I want you to know how sorry I am. Even if it doesn't make any difference to you at all. I..."

"You're right, it doesn't make any difference, so why bother?"

"Because I can't live here and work here...and see you every day without telling you."

"Well, you've done so, now you can go," Severus snapped.

"No, I can't. No one else is here to apologise to you. I am...and I should've stopped them," Remus lamented. "I knew what we were doing was wrong but I never said anything...and I'm sorry. Every time something...happened...I always said that I'd tell them to stop. I'm not making excuses but...I'd never had friends before I came here; being a werewolf makes that sort of thing...difficult. I was afraid that if I ever said anything then I'd be alone."

Severus said nothing as he picked up his glass tumbler, refilled it and drank from it again. "A few months before Harry was born," Remus continued, "James told me that he wrote a letter to you. I don't think he actually sent it, it's probably still in the house somewhere, but he said he planned on sending it."

"Thankfully," Severus remarked, disdainfully, "I received no letter."

"I wish he'd sent it. He really did change after we left school; he grew up, it should've happened sooner but..."

"Get out," the man snapped at him again. "I don't care about your pathetic apology and I certainly don't want to hear about saint Potter," he spat when Remus made no move to leave.

"He was no saint," Remus snorted, "None of us were."

"No, you were something even better," Severus glared at him. "You were Albus' precious Gryffindors. You could do no wrong."

"I don't think it was like that...but someone should have done something. They should have stopped us. We shouldn't have needed anyone to stop us. We should've realised what we were doing was wrong. If anyone else had treated one of us like that, then we would have known it was wrong. It shouldn't have made a difference who it was I...I couldn't help but thinking about when Teddy grows up," the man sighed. "If he was treated the way we treated you, I don't think I'd ever forgive them, whatever their reasons...Did your parents ever..."

Severus just scoffed and turned away from the other wizard without saying anything. "They didn't know or they just didn't do anything?" Remus asked, "But it was seven years!"

"Your point?"

"...My point is that I'm sorry," Remus said after a moment. "What we did was...terrible. It was beyond cruel. And I'm not saying any of this to insult you. If I could change any of it, I would, but I can't...People make mistakes and the only thing we can do is apologise for them. If nothing else...I was hoping that we could at least be...civil."

"...Civil?"

"Yes. But if me being here is too...difficult for you, then I'll leave. I can find another job, I told you," he insisted.

"It's a little late for that," the headmaster muttered back.

"For an apology or for me to leave?"

"...Both," Severus answered and Remus nodded, giving a melancholy smile.

"...Alright," he replied. He taped his wand against the glass and it vanished silently and then he stood up. "I understand. I'm sorry for disturbing you, it won't happen again. Good night, headmaster," he added, formally.

"...On my desk...you'll find a vial," Severus told him when he reached the door.

"A headache reliever?" Remus frowned, confused as he turned back around.

"It is not for me," the headmaster enunciated carefully, "It...is yours."

"Mine?" the werewolf stated, "What is it?"

"Not a headache potion."

"The Wolfsbane?" Remus breathed and Severus nodded minutely, "You made it for me? Why?"

"Out, wolf," Severus commanded.

"Thank you," Remus said, genuinely, "I wasn't expecting you to..."

"Go!"

"Alright," he smiled, "Alright. I'll go. Thank you for the potion, Severus. I'll see you at breakfast, I hope," he said before he left.


	20. 24th October 1998

Draco and Narcissa: Imprisoned

24th October 1998

* * *

At one point in his life, the Malfoys' were perhaps the closest thing to family that Severus had ever had. Lucius had been a friend and a protector of sorts to him at Hogwarts and certainly he'd been the one to vouch for Severus when he'd been brought before the Death Eaters. Severus had even been made Draco's godfather when he had been born and as such, he'd felt a strong need to protect the boy. He'd wanted the child to learn that he didn't need to follow in his father's footsteps but in the end, Draco had been left with no choice.

With Lucius now in Azkaban for the foreseeable future and his wife and son's reputations completely ruined, Severus had done all he could to protect them. Both were living under the constant watch of the Ministry and were wandless, as were many such families of the Death Eaters.

They'd been fortunate that the witches and wizards in charge of their case were somewhat sympathetic to their situation. It also helped that Narcissa had made no secret of the fact that she had lied to Voldemort and thus, saved Harry Potter's life. Yes, their ancestral manor home was off limits to them and they were living in conditions that they themselves would have left for their house elves, but they were alive.

* * *

It was early in the morning, when Severus was shown into a small, grimy sitting room by a monosyllabic Auror in which Narcissa and Draco were residing. It clearly wasn't what they were used to but their complaints had long since fallen of deaf ears. It was cold, it was dark and it was quite, quite horrid.

"Severus," Narcissa greeted him with a tired smile. "Thank you for coming," she said, gesturing for him to sit opposite her. While she at least made an effort to be welcoming, Draco seemed lost in though as he stared out at the morning rain as it dripped down the mullioned window. "Draco," she turned to her son but got no reply so she closed her eyes and sighed.

"He is...unchanged?" Severus asked, regarding his godson with dark eyes.

"...Worse," she admitted.

Draco didn't seem to care that he was being discussed whilst still in the room, he didn't seem to show much interest in anything anymore and his mother despaired. "He hasn't eaten in two days now," Narcissa remarked, "I...I don't know what to do, Severus. There's no one I can turn to and there's nothing medically wrong with him. If there was then the Aurors," she spat the word, "Would have to do something but otherwise they refuse to."

"He doesn't speak?"

"Not much."

"Does he sleep?"

"Very little."

"Less than you?" he asked, shrewdly and she nodded, reluctantly.

Severus took his wand from his sleeve and ran a silent diagnostics spell on the silent wizard.

"Well?" Narcissa asked.

"It confirms nothing more or less than what you have told me; malnutrition, dehydration and sleep deprivation," he replied.

"Is there a...a potion he can take to..."

"That would imply that he would drink it and were that the case he could not be dehydrated," Severus said, standing to kneel before Draco. He gently moved the boy's chin from one side the other as he stared into the boy's eyes.

"...No..." Draco muttered suddenly and forced his eyes shut, "Don't...please..."

"Then speak and I won't need to," Severus retorted.

"Severus..." Narcissa said, uncertainly.

"Why won't you eat?" the headmaster asked his godson.

"...Not hungry."

"Why won't you sleep?" he asked.

"...Not tired."

"Your eyes say otherwise," Severus said, standing up and moving so that he was blocking the view from the window which had had the boy so transfixed.

"...I'm fine..." Draco muttered back.

"Then stand up," the headmaster said but Draco shook his head. "Because you cannot, foolish boy," he lamented and stormed over to the door. He wrenched it open and glared at one of the two Aurors standing there. "Bring in some food...unless you wish for your charges to starve," he ordered, then slammed the door closed again. "You will eat, Draco," Severus said to him.

"I don't want to. I'm not hungry," be said, his voice still horse and rough.

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Please...sir...please just...go," Draco grumbled, curling in on himself in his chair, "I don't want..."

"Draco," Narcissa cried, leaping up and kneeling in front of her son. "Draco, please...you must eat. Severus has risked much just by finding us and it would be a poor way to repay his efforts by..."

"I'm just...I'm not hungry, mother," he reiterated, weakly. He shivered and pulled the moth eaten blanket tightly around his thin frame and Severus scowled.

The headmaster aimed his wand at the unlit fireplace and it roared to life with bright, warm flames. He then transfigured the threadbare blanket into a much thicker, warmer throw and even the worn chair seemed more comfortable to Draco once his godfather was through.

There was a knock at the door and Severus dropped one of the plates of food delivered by the disgruntled Auror, onto Draco's lap. "Eat," he ordered. He gave the other plate to Narcissa and then he wordlessly set to work on the rest of the room. The thick layers of dust vanished, the burnt out candles which hadn't been replaced in months were suddenly new and lit. The grimy windows were cleaned, the mold covered walls were scrubbed and the broken lamps around the room were fixed.

Narcissa graciously bowed her head to him when he was through and she sat down in front of the fire. They'd had been forbidden even from lighting a fire since they were considered little more than prisoners and prisoners didn't get much in the way of comfort. Whatever comfort she could find, like the pathetic blanket and the only few cushions in their rooms, she gave to her son.

Severus left them for a moment, no doubt so that he could clear up the remaining rooms; their bedrooms and a rather small bathroom and then he returned.

"Draco," he began when he saw that the food he'd given to his godson was untouched. "I thought I told you to eat," he said.

"I can't."

"And why not?" the man asked, exasperated.

"I...just...can't. Last time I tried I..."

"Here," Severus said, handing the boy a small vial from his robes. "A stomach calming draught. Drink it. You cannot keep your food down because you're malnourished, this will help," he explained, knowingly.

"Thanks," Draco whispered, taking the vail and drinking its contents. His mother practically glowed with happiness at the sight. "Professor...why didn't you...why didn't you come sooner?" the boy asked him a minute later.

"Draco..." Narcissa began, "Severus couldn't. You know that. I've explained..."

"They wouldn't even let me write to you. I can't see father. We can't even leave this building."

"He didn't even know where we were until yesterday," his mother told him. "I wrote to him last night and I don't know just what exactly he did to persuade the Ministry to allow him to come here, but he's here to help you."

"You...didn't know...that we were here?"

"Your whereabouts was a closely guarded secret."

"Oh."

"I'm told...that it was for your protection," the headmaster said in disgust, looking around at what had once been their squalid living conditions. "What exactly have you learned?" he asked.

"About?" Narcissa asked.

"Everything. Anything."

"Precious little," she answered. "They tell us nothing and we are 'allowed' the Prophet once a week...though we both know just how useful that is."

"I thought..." Draco began, shakily, "It said that you...were killed. Then you weren't killed. I thought...maybe he did it because I..."

"The Dark Lord," Severus said, calmly, "Did indeed attempt to kill me. But not because of you," he said, choosing to disregard the details of the Hallows.

"...I'm so sorry, Uncle Sev," Draco cried, folding his arms on his knees and burying his face in them. "I knew I shouldn't have...I knew it was all wrong, but...and father's in Azkaban...and he tried to kill you because I..." he said, his voice muffled slightly.

"Draco," Severus began with a deep sigh. He regarded his godson with nothing short of regret in his dark eyes. For as long as he'd known the boy, he'd tried to convince Lucius that his son didn't need to follow on his footsteps and take the Mark, and he'd failed. "Listen to me," he said, "I expected to die by his hand long before you were involved. Whatever you've been told...whatever you hear...I was a spy, not for the Dark Lord, but for Dumbledore, that is the truth."

"But why would you..."

"I had my reasons" Severus said, simply.

"If the...if he'd have found out," Draco shivered though not from the cold this time, "You'd have...he would have... **he** didn't tolerate...traitors."

"No, he did not."

"Then why risk..."

"One day, perhaps, you'll understand why," Severus said, simply.

"I understand not wanting to...to follow him," Draco confessed quietly, "But...I don't understand why...how you could even spy...on **him**. And we never knew. Father doesn't know?"

"Perhaps he does. Despite what people think...word travels fast in Azkaban."

"...They should've sent me there," Draco muttered. "It's my fault...Dumbledore died. It's my fault that..."

"No," the headmaster stopped him from speaking. "You had no choice in any of this," he said, grasping the younger man's branded forearm, gently. "Lucius chose this, I chose this; you did not. You knew from the start that this...is not something to be coveted."

"But I still..."

"What else could you have done?" Severus asked him, "They would have killed you and your parents if you had refused, you know that."

"But it's my fault that you had to..."

"I am capable of making my own decisions. You didn't force me to do anything. What happened that night was planned. Albus knew what you'd been ordered to do and he was dying anyway. I did what I had to do to gain the Dark Lord's complete trust. I did it because Albus asked me to and I will not watch you disregard all my work in protecting you. Now for the last time, eat!"

"...Yes, sir," Draco muttered stunned and finally, slowly, he began to eat.

"You will of course, be permitted to write to me from now on," Severus said, confidently.

"How exactly did that...Phoenix...know where to find us?" Narcissa asked, "It was a rather odd choice of messenger for...people like us."

"Fawkes...has his uses," the headmaster replied.

A Phoenix could breech practically any barrier and once he'd been able to discover where Draco and Narcissa were, Severus had sent the bird and it had returned with such a pleading reply that he'd ended up storming the Ministry and demanding the right to visit them.

"I see," the woman mused, furrowing her brow. "Severus...I...I know my husband would see what you did as a betrayal...for a while so did I. You always seemed the most loyal of us all."

When she'd first read of the extraordinary circumstances by which he'd survived, and lived for the last two decades, she'd been angry. Of course the witch had been angry. She'd learned about the things he'd through the papers and he'd not been allowed to see them at all. While Severus was, in theory, a free man despite his past actions, they were under house arrest and taken from the fine world in which they had lived their whole lives. But time had put things into perspective for them. Narcissa's anger had faded into weariness and Draco's fear had warped into self hatred and disillusionment.

"You've always been there for us. You're family, Severus," she added.

Lucius had never been so forthright about such things as being 'family' with a half blood. While he had practically made sure of it by making the man godfather to his son and heir, he'd always made sure that Severus knew that he was 'second rate' in terms of blood purity. It had been kept a secret from everyone that Draco's godfather was a half blood. They couldn't disgrace the Malfoy name in public, naturally.

"And you're all we've got left now," Narcissa continued. "I'm told...that's it's unlikely that Lucius will ever be released. He pleaded guilty to everything so that we'd...and I can't even see him," she sighed.

"I...will do what I can," Severus said, quietly.

"I don't expect you to," she shook her head, "You don't need to do anything further for us. You've done more than enough."

"I didn't know," he said, "That this place was...When I was told that you were hidden for your protection I thought...well, clearly I expected too much of the Ministry."

"We are the losing side, Severus," Narcissa replied, grandly, "We were lucky the first time. Our luck ran out, that's all," she sighed. "But...I read...that you were awarded an Order of Merlin," the woman remarked after a moment and he grimaced.

"Is it true?" Draco asked.

"Sadly, yes," the headmaster muttered.

"And...you're still headmaster?"

"I am."

"So...you're...they're not going to...send you to Azkaban too, are they?"

"Despite my best efforts, it appears unlikely."

"Oh...well...good," the young wizard nodded. "I erm...were the seventh years allowed to go back to school for another year, as well?" he asked and Severus nodded. "But...I...I can't, can I?

"If you wish to, it's not to late..."

"I...don't think I should," Draco winced.

"Then what is it that you want to do?" Severus asked him.

"Well, father always said I should..."

"I didn't ask what Lucius wanted you to do, I asked what you wanted to do."

"I...I don't really know. But I won't be able to do anything anyway, so what's the point in thinking about it?"

"You'd rather stay here for the rest of your life?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't think I have a choice," Draco said, sounding resigned to that fact.

"Draco," Severus scowled at him and the boy relented.

"Alright...I want...to leave, to travel, but there's no way I'd be allowed to..."

"You want to travel?" the headmaster clarified.

"...Yes, I do."

"Where?"

"...Anywhere."

"Very well," Severus nodded once in understanding. "Might I suggest that you start this travel plan of yours by eating and sleeping?" he suggested and Draco gave a small smile.

"...They won't let me go anywhere, you know," he replied.

"We'll see," Severus said, enigmatically before he stood up. He made his way over to the door again but then he spoke without turning back to face them. "One more thing...should the time come for you to be released from the Ministry's custody...I am...uncertain as to whether or not you would be allowed to return to Malfoy Manor straight away, if at all. You've seen my house, Narcissa. It could be considered worse than this by your standards, but the wards there by far surpass anything these Aurors are capable of conjuring. Provided that you are released...and have nowhere to go...I cannot promise you luxury, but it will be secure. However, I need you to be patient. It could...take some time."

"I assure you, as a mother, I am well versed in patience. And...if such a time were to come," Narcissa began, "Then I'd be exceedingly grateful, of course."

Severus only nodded silently before he left, glaring at the Aurors again for good measure.

* * *

A moment after he closed the door behind him, Narcissa swiftly followed him. The Aurors at the door were fast on her heels and one grabbed her arm while the other brandished his wand. Her reflex of reaching for her own wand was pointless.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you've been warned already, you're not to..." one of them began but Severus had his own wand at the man's throat in an instant.

"Lower your wand," the headmaster hissed slowly at one of them and then he turned to the other. "And you...remove your hand," he ordered the second.

"This is for your protection...headmaster," the first Auror, a rather large, unhappy looking man growled back at him.

"The lady is unarmed and half starved," Severus retorted. "And I am not in the habit of repeating myself," he warned them.

Reluctantly, they backed off but they stood on either side of the grimy, narrow corridor, not taking their eyes of either Severus or Narcissa.

"Was that wise?" he asked her.

"I needed to talk to you...privately," she said, shrugging elegantly, seeming unperturbed by the actions of the Aurors.

"I'd hardly call this...private," Severus replied, narrowing his eyes at their audience.

"Without Draco," Narcissa specified.

"Why?"

"Severus, I want to make it clear to you," she began, moving closer to him in a futile attempt not to be overheard by the Aurors. "I want my son to be your first priority in whatever attempts you are able to make. Anything that you require, money...truly anything, the Malfoy fortune is at your disposal. Just...get my son out of here."

"I...can make no promises, you understand?"

"I'm aware of that," she sighed, "But he doesn't carry Lucius' crimes...or mine. If...nothing can be done for us, then at least save him."

Whatever else could be said of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Severus had always been certain that they loved their son. They were vain, spoilt, racist, arrogant beyond belief, but their son was the most treasured thing in the world to them. At times that had perhaps done Draco more harm than good, but it didn't make it any less true. He'd never had parents that had loved him so the care that these two very flawed people showed for their son, puzzled him greatly. If they could love their son, irrespective of their faults, why couldn't his own?

"I have very little influence at the Ministry," Severus said, "But I will do all I can."

"...Thank you, Severus," she nodded, smiling at him.

* * *

The next morning, after the first decent nights' sleep he'd had in weeks, Draco found a stack of book as tall as he was waiting for him by the still, magically burning fireplace and a very smug looking phoenix standing beside them. The books ranged from wizarding travel guides to defence and potions books but most of them had been annotated and scribbled in by a very familiar handwriting, he noticed happily.

* * *

A.N. I always figured that Snape favoured Draco more than he needed to if it was just because he was the son of another Death Eater and it was just for appearances sake. There were others at Hogwarts who were the children of Death Eaters too and he didn't really favour them as much as he did Draco so I gave him a reason to.


	21. 28th November 1998

Lucius: Imprisoned

28th November 1998

* * *

Severus had been to Azkaban before, both as a visitor and as a prisoner. After the end of the first war, Dumbledore hadn't been able to prevent him being sent there along with several other known Death Eaters. It had taken a month before the aged headmaster had been able to get his spy freed and for a month, the old man had been worried sick. Severus had made sure not to let Albus know just how he'd been treated for that month and even then his Occlumency shields had been powerful enough to repel the man, but he didn't doubt that Albus had known anyway. The man wasn't clueless about these things.

For that month, Severus had hardly been given food or water. He'd been in total isolation in a cell with one small window which was no bigger than a standard cauldron. Well, not total isolation. His gaoler for that month had been a Dementor who had prowled his cell, night and day, barely letting him sleep at all. To survive, he'd had to force everything to the back of his mind and become as blank as parchment. It had taken no small effort on Albus part after his release to bring him back.

Unlike muggles, wizards had no 'human rights' when it came to prisoners, especially when it came to Death Eaters. Dementors were given free reign to do as they pleased and even with Minister Shacklebolts' attempts to reform the prison, it was still a hell hole. It was no better than a death sentence to all within its walls, whether that was slow or not depended on the Dementors.

The prison fortress now had Aurors as guards as well but there simply weren't enough of them. They were outnumbered by the Dementors by at least ten to one and it would take some time before things changed.

With the last of the Death Eaters only recently dealt with, the Ministry was no longer able to deny Severus' request to see Lucius Malfoy. And so, he was being escorted through the halls of the fortress, listening to the moans and groans of the prisoners.

Lucius had barely survived his first stint in Azkaban and Severus was doubtful that the man's sanity would remain intact were he ever to be released again. But it was simply impossible for the man to be released so soon. There was simply nothing that he could do.

* * *

When Severus entered the cell he noticed that there was no Dementor in sight. He also noticed just how terrible Lucius Malfoy looked. The blonde wizard had certainly appeared worse off after his first sentence but now he looked positively dead. One would think the man was indeed dead were it not for his eyes blinking monotonously.

"Lucius?" Severus narrowed his eyes.

After a minute, the exhausted, pale eyes turned to him and the despondent expression on the haggard face morphed into one of pure loathing.

"Oh...it's you," the man said, his voice haggard and rough, "I heard you died."

"Surprise," Severus muttered back, sarcastically.

"I also heard...that you were a traitor. The famous traitor who fooled the Dark Lord. Come to gloat, have you? To mock?"

"Always so melodramatic," Severus rolled his eyes. Clearly news does indeed travel in a prison, just as he'd suspected...and remembered.

"And you...tell me that none of it is true. Tell me that you didn't betray us...and I might believe it."

"It would be a lie," the headmaster stated.

"...I see...If you hadn't betrayed us all...maybe we wouldn't be in here. **I** wouldn't be in here! We could have won! We may be wandless...but there's more than one prisoner in here...old friend...who wouldn't be glad to do away with you."

"I'm flattered."

"Traitor," Lucius hissed.

"Your wife," Severus began, emotionlessly, "Sends her regards...and regrets that she cannot be here in my stead."

"Narcissa...what have you done with..."

"She and Draco are safe."

"...Why should I trust anything you say to me? You lied to us all for years!" Lucius yelled with energy that Severus hadn't thought the man had.

"Certainly, you don't need to listen to a word I say," Severus said, turning back to the door, "However, if that is the case then I've wasted my time and I'll leave..."

"No!" the wizard exclaimed, "No, Severus, no...tell me. Tell me what has happened to them!"

Severus regarded his once regal 'friend' with dark eyes before he spoke again. "You have been told nothing?" he asked.

"Not about them."

"As I said...they are safe. Your...admissions...helped to save them both from Azkaban but they too are wandless and under guard in a Ministry appointed safe house. I...have done what I can for them."

"You?" Lucius frowned, confused and Severus nodded.

"In time...I believe they will be released. Perhaps it will take even longer for their wands to be returned but I doubt that your manor will be open to them for many years."

"...You...have tried to...help them? After everything you did?"

"I am Draco's godfather," Severus stated after taking a deep breath.

"And you killed Dumbledore for him! You went so far to deceive us all!"

"It was necessary. Your wife would agree with me...to a point. She did lie to the Dark Lord herself and for that you should be grateful. Had she not, she'd surely be in a cell adjoining your own."

"Narcissa...always understood. She may not have took the Mark herself but she understood."

"She had no choice but to understand," Severus said, "You told her nothing of the cause until after you were married."

"...She understood," the man reiterated, weakly. "I thought...you did too. I vouched for you. You betrayed us all. The Dark Lord. Me..." Maybe it was the thought that one of few friends he'd ever really had, one who wasn't simply after his money; the personal betrayal that stung worse than the greater one to Lucius.

"I did what was necessary."

"So did I...but, Severus...why? Merlin knows...I'd have done anything to keep them safe. But our cause...what we wanted...what we fought for was...right."

"You still think so? Then why did you flee the battle? I'm told that the three of you fled Hogwarts before it ended."

"...I never claimed to be courageous," the broken man admitted.

"You're a coward, Lucius," Severus told him.

"...Maybe so," the man nodded, "But it's better than being a traitor...In the Shack that night...I knew...I suspected...that I was leading you to your death," Lucius sighed, "But I did it anyway. If I hadn't...and if you'd died then...it would've been for the best. Then we wouldn't have known that you were..."

"Better dead than a known deserter?"

"...Yes."

"Even if this deserter is all your family has to protect them from the full wrath of the Ministry?"

"...Yes," Lucius repeated.

"If it would have saved your wife and son, you would have done the same."

"But it wouldn't have and you have no wife or child. You have no one. You never have. So why do it? The Dark Lord trusted you, favoured you. You were among the first he taught his own spells to..."

"And yet...for all that, he would have killed me," Severus stated.

"We are...were...his to discard as he saw fit," Lucius recited.

"Unless those people are you or your family. Not only are you a coward, you're a hypocrite."

"...I'm a husband and a father," the blonde wizard said, staring up to meet Severus eyes for the first time, "You're nothing."

" **I** am the one able to leave this cell," Severus replied, just as coldly.

"Then go," Lucius breathed.

"...I'll give your family your regards and tell them that you are well," Severus said, banging his hand against the door. "Goodbye, Lucius," he said before he stalked away.


	22. 15th September 2017

Potters and Malfoys

15th September 2017

* * *

A.N. I'm going to completely ignore anything that happens in Cursed Child. I know the basic plot, but I haven't read it or seen it and I don't intend to, so anything that ends up being remotely similar will be purely coincidental.

* * *

Severus sighed deeply for what felt like the thousandth time as he rested his elbows on his desk and his chin on his hand. He wasn't cut out for this aspect of being headmaster and yet here he was, practically watching history repeat itself right in front of him. He'd known for two weeks that this would happen and he'd tried his best to prevent it, discretely of course, but clearly he'd failed. He was never quite convinced that it was at all possible to succeed in this instance anyway.

"It wasn't my fault!" young Scorpius Malfoy declared, "He started it!"

"I did not!" Albus Potter retorted, just as loudly and indignantly as the other Slytherin student.

"Yes, you did! If you hadn't tripped me yesterday..."

"I didn't trip you! It was an accident!"

"Everyone was laughing at me! I had to do something," Scorpius said to Severus.

"No one was laughing!" young Albus retorted, "You fell over and I helped you up! I don't get what your problem is!"

"Both of you..." Slughorn, their head of house began but Severus spoke, ignoring him.

"I've had enough of Potters and Malfoys for one lifetime," he rubbed at his eyes with pale fingers. "If the next seven years are to be like this, then either you both leave or I do."

"But, sir!" Scorpius respectfully protested.

"Uncle Sev!" Albus wined at the same time.

"I should expel the pair of you," the headmaster declared, staring at them.

"Please, sir, my father..." Scorpius shook his head, frantically.

"Will be just as furious as I am, if not more so."

"Why can't he be here? Potter's dad's here! Why isn't mine! If he was here, then..."

"Professor Potter is here because he is a witness to what happened in the courtyard," Severus said, silencing the both of them.

"...Dad..." Albus began, nervously, looking over at his father who was stood to Severus' left.

"Don't look at me, young man," Harry shook his head, "I can't help you. I thought we'd settled this between you two already..."

"I don't care...what started this," Severus told the two students, interrupting Harry, "It will not continue."

"But I..."

"But he..."

"Enough," he hissed and they both nodded, silently. "You managed not only to endanger yourselves and those around you, but the courtyard itself. You damaged the fountain and broke three antique grotesques!"

"What's a...grotesque?" Albus asked, quietly.

"It's a gargoyle, you idiot," Scorpius muttered back.

"Silence!"

"Sorry," they both said simultaneously, standing up straight.

"There's a reason why first years don't learn such dangerous magic and you demonstrated it to the entire school! I wont ask where you learned those spells but the fact that you didn't have enough common sense to realise your stupidity makes me wonder why I agreed to be godfather to either one of you!"

Scorpius and Albus seemed to deflate further at Severus' harsh words and they exchanged a guilty look.

"If you were expecting leniency because of that, you'll be disappointed," he told them. "Fortunately for you, I am not your head of house," he said, suddenly standing up. "However, as headmaster, since you damaged the castle itself I am more than entitled to take points...50 each I think..."

"50!?" they both exclaimed.

"Be thankful it was not more."

"But, sir, everyone in Slytherin..." Albus began, indignantly.

"Will be sure to remind you of our house rules. You've clearly forgotten them already."

It was explained to Slytherins at the start of their time at Hogwarts that theirs was a proud house. They had many rules but chief among them was that under no circumstances did you publicly fight another Slytherin; rivalries between housemates was to be confined to the common room to keep up the public image of house unity at all costs. Anyone who broke that rule would be extremely unpopular. Of course, fighting in general was not to be encouraged, but Severus had been a Slytherin before he was a headmaster, and every one of his predecessors had been prejudice towards their house.

"I haven't forgotten them, sir, but he said..." Scorpius began.

"You do not, under any circumstances, publicly fight another student, let alone a Slytherin. You bring your grievances to your head of house or your prefects. You've been here less than a month and you've already disregarded that rule!"

"I didn't mean to, uncle Sev...I mean, sir," Albus stammered after a minute, "I know it was stupid but I was just...he just made me so angry..."

"Yeah..." Scorpius muttered.

"Anger is no excuse for stupidity," Severus told them, unsympathetically.

"No, sir," they both said.

"Having said that, I'm sure we'd be rather interested to know what it was that made the pair of you 'so angry'," the headmaster drawled.

"I erm...I don't really think..." Albus Severus began quietly.

"We've established that," Severus said, "But it wasn't a request, Mr. Potter."

"But, I really don't want..."

"I don't care, one of you will tell me before I have you both expelled."

"Please don't expel us!" Scorpius exclaimed.

"Then tell me..."

"He said you told him that you liked him better so you spent Christmas with them and lied to us about it!" Scorpius exclaimed, pointing angrily at his fellow Slytherin.

"Idiot," Albus muttered back to him and relieved only an angry glare in response.

"...Horace," Severus spoke suddenly, "I believe it would be best for you to return to your office. Both Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy will join you soon."

"Of course, headmaster," the man nodded and left without another word.

Severus then turned his attention to the students, both of whom, were looking at him, nervously. "Explain," he ordered them and they both started taking at once in rapid succession, each trying to be louder than the other. "Calmly," he added and they stopped.

"Erm...well, sir...I can't really remember how we got to talking about it...but we were talking about the new broom I'd had last Christmas and how much better it was than Potter's rubbish old..." he trailed off when Severus glared at him and with a nervous cough, he continued, "Anyway, Potter heard me when I said you were gonna be there for Christmas dinner..."

"No you didn't! You said he **was** there for Christmas dinner!" Albus Severus accused.

"I didn't!"

"You seriously expect me to believe that alone was enough to have the pair of you trying to hex one other into oblivion?" the headmaster asked in disbelief.

"It's true, I swear," Scorpius exclaimed.

"Please, sir, just tell that idiot," Albus glared back at the other student, "The truth. You weren't with us and I never said you were."

"I can't see why it matters to either of you where I was," Severus retorted, "Furthermore, I don't believe for a moment that this is what you were..."

"They both know where you were," Harry interjected.

"You cannot be falling for their charade," the headmaster said to him.

"...This may have happened before...in Diagon Alley last month," the man admitted.

"This same...argument?" Severus asked and Harry nodded. "Why?" he demanded, turning his attention to the children again.

"Why...what, sir?" Scorpius asked.

"I can think of at least a dozen different topics for a Malfoy and a Potter to argue about. I find it impossible to believe that you chose...this particular one."

"But it's true!" Albus exclaimed.

"I am many things, Mr. Potter, but I am not an idiot," Severus scoffed, "I expect you to tell me the truth, before I..."

"Please, Uncle Sev, I'm not lying," the boy said, sincerely.

"They really did argue about...this...before," Harry said to the headmaster.

"Is it really so difficult for you to believe that your godsons were fighting over you, Severus?" Albus' portrait smiled down at him.

"Be quiet," Severus hissed back at him, but this only made the old man smile even more. "I don't believe any of this for a moment..." he addressed said godsons, sternly.

"Sir, I swear..." Scorpius began, desperately, "I'll swear it on...my magic...yeah, I'll swear it on my magic if I have to..."

"Yeah, me too."

"That won't be necessary, boys, will it, headmaster?" the portrait said, quickly.

Every wizard knew that swearing truth on ones magic was dangerous. If you were lying, your own magic would attack you just to prove it. That's why no one did it. It's why people preferred to use Veritaserum. If the subject of your questioning killed himself in a stupid attempt to lie to you, then you'd never learn anything, would you? To swear such truth, you had to mean it and very few people rarely meant what they said.

"...No," Severus sighed after a moment. "Very well...you wish to know where I was last December...I was in Paris at the Annual Potioneer's Conference," he told the children.

"And you knew that," Harry said to his son.

"But I told him he wasn't with us. I never said..."

"Liar," Scorpius scowled.

"Enough," Severus sighed, closing his eyes. "I am not required to report my activities to you children however you were both fully aware of the fact that I was in France. So, why on earth did you feel the need to demolish the courtyard?"

"I'm...sorry, sir," Albus muttered, sheepishly, "I just...it sounds stupid but...he said...well, I just got angry when he said you liked him better because you're his grandad's friend and you're his dad's godfather and all my family's in Gryffindor except me and that just makes me a...a freak or something. I'm not even supposed to be in Slytherin. I know that, but..."

"And now, not only are you my acting gaoler, you're also a sorting hat, as well," Severus remarked, sarcastically.

"But you and Lucius Malfoy are...friends...right?" Albus Severus asked, shyly.

"...In a manner of speaking."

"But he," the boy glared over at Scorpio again, "Said you were his dad's godfather as well."

"Your point?"

"Well...if you were his dad's godfather and now you're his godfather, then..."

"I am not a 'thing' to be passed from one generation to another as a godfather," Severus rolled his eyes.

"No, sir," they both replied, hastily.

"Nor am I to be the subject of another one of your arguments."

"...No, sir," they said, reluctantly.

"I know better than expect the pair of you to shake hands and be done with it," he said, blinking accusingly across at his predecessors' rather smug portrait for a moment. "However, I will not tolerate another seven years of schoolboy rivalry...am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are both Slytherins and that is not up for debate," he said and they nodded. He then specifically to Albus Severus. "The rest of your family may indeed by Gryffindors but there is no shame in that. Personally, I think you'll find that you are more suited to the house of serpents because **we** think," he said and the boy snickered. "Although today, you both went far in disproving that," he added.

"...Sorry," they muttered again in unison.

"Now...your head of house, who fortunately for you is far more forgiving than myself, surely has some cauldrons for you to scrub and I have a courtyard to repair," he said, standing up.

The boy's nodded quickly and all but fled the room, pausing only to give him identical looks of apology before they left.

"Well, Severus, my boy, you should be honoured," Albus remarked cheerily when they were gone, "Your two young godsons are vying for your attention in spectacular fashion. You're quite the beloved relative."

"I'm not at all flattered," Severus replied, dryly.

"I really thought we'd settled this, honestly," Harry told him, "Otherwise, I wouldn't have..."

"I blame you for this," the headmaster said, simply.

"...Why?"

"You had children," Severus explained and Harry scoffed.

"It takes two, you know," he retorted, smirking.

"Your wife isn't here for me to blame," the older wizard said haughtily.

"Sure it's not just because you're scared of Ginny when she's mad? Weasley women can be pretty terrifying," Harry smiled, keeping his eyes on the headmaster as he walked away from his desk. "Want a hand with the courtyard?" he asked, innocently.

"Since it's your fault, yes," Severus answered.

"I'm not going to hear the end of this, am I?" Harry lamented, following the headmaster from the office.


	23. 16th April 2012

The Name: James

16th April 2012

* * *

James Potter II was an intelligent child, he was also very mischievous and energetic. He loved his family and his friends, he loved Quidditch, he was an enthusiastic ametuer Astronomer and he idolised the headmaster of Hogwarts whom he fondly referred to as 'Uncle Sev.' He'd picked up the moniker from Teddy Lupin and it seemed to have stuck just as it had with Draco Malfoy. Then along came Albus Severus, Scorpius Malfoy and then young Lilly Luna Potter and the name had caught on again and again and again. It seemed that the headmaster would never be rid of it.

Severus liked to think that he tolerated all of these children fairy well, at least as well as he was able to. But the trouble came not when the child called Albus Severus began to ask about his name, no, it came when James Potter began to act so like his grandfather and like Sirius Black.

You see, because James Potter II was so headstrong and mischievous, he got on rather well with his uncles Fred and George Weasley and he loved practical jokes. It made things difficult for Severus when he was around the boy. He just didn't know what to do. It was easy for all to see that the boy idolised him but that he was also confused by him.

Every year, Severus would send the children gifts but around the time of his eighth birthday, young James had begun to notice something that his parents had caught on to long before he himself had. Severus never called him by his name, he never said 'James', ever. So, he asked his parents why. He saw the strange look they gave each other but he couldn't understand it. So he asked again, but he didn't receive an answer. At least not one that he could comprehend.

He didn't know that his father would take matters into his own hands and talk with the headmaster himself about it.

* * *

After finishing his marking for the night, Harry journeyed up to the headmasters' office only to find the man himself staring out across the walkway to his office holding a small device in his hands. His original purpose was somewhat forgotten when faced with the rare object.

"Is that...a lunascope?" Harry frowned. "Where did you get it?" he asked.

Lunascopes were rather rare instruments now, few were known to exist and since they were so rare, they had become legendary. This particular one looked exceptionally old and it's value could be, for want of a better term, astronomical.

"Prince Manor," the man remarked, turning the small device over in his hand, "I found it."

"It's a family heirloom?"

"I suppose so," Severus shrugged a little before he held out his pale hand and offered it to Harry.

"What?" the younger professor asked, confused.

"It's...a gift," the headmaster said.

"For..." Harry trailed off.

"For...your son. It's his birthday soon."

"You're giving my soon-to-be eight year old son an antique lunascope that's worth...I don't even want to think about how much it could be worth..."

"He's been asking for one for years now," Severus remarked.

"Since he was five," Harry said, smiling, "I didn't know you knew that too. But...I've heard these things sell for thousands of galleons..."

"I'm aware of that," Severus said and gestured with dark eyes to the lunascope which he still held.

"You know I'm going home for his party on Saturday...you could...come with me and give it to him yourself. He'd love to see you. He always does."

"I'm..."

"You're busy," Harry nodded, sighing, "I figured."

Severus was always when it was time for birthdays or Christmas or any other kind of gathering. At first, Harry had honestly tried not to push the headmaster. But over the years it had begun to exasperate Harry. His children loved Severus but Severus himself was a difficult man. As his children grew, Harry feared that the man's reticence would distance them and that their idolisation would turn to resentment.

"James...he's noticed, you know?" Harry told him, suddenly.

"Noticed what?"

"That you never say his name. He keeps asking me why."

"...Does he, indeed?" Severus sighed, dropping his hand to his side.

"All the time now," Harry nodded, "And I never know what to say."

"How troublesome for you."

"You care about him, I know you do, just like you care for Albus and Lily and Scorpius. I know you're not...I know it's...difficult...and I understand. I do. But...he's...he's confused. He doesn't understand."

"What exactly...have you told him?"

"Nothing," Harry shook his head, "I don't want him to grow up thinking that the person he admires hates him for something that..."

"...I don't...hate the boy," Severus admitted, quietly as he leaned over the balcony and stared out at the nights' sky.

"You just hate his name, just like you hated me because I look like my father but I can't help the way I look. I named my son after him because he was my dad and he died saving my life. There's only so many times I can tell you that I understand why you hated him...and me. But James...my son...he's just a child," Harry said.

"...So was I," the headmaster whispered back.

"I know...but...what are you going to do when he starts school?" Harry asked.

"...I won't see him every day."

"You might end up seeing him more than you think...he's a lot like Fred and George. And he likes you. I wouldn't put it past him to cause trouble just to get sent to your office," the younger wizard smiled but Severus didn't seem at all amused. "He's young...but I think he'd understand if he knew..." Harry began, cautiously.

"No," Severus snapped, suddenly.

"But he..."

"No," the man repeated, sternly and Harry sighed.

"Alright," he relented, "I won't tell him anything."

"You should have listened to me. I told you, many years ago, not to involve me in your...family affairs," Severus added.

"You are family."

"...You should have listened," the man repeated.

"Well, I didn't," Harry shrugged, characteristically.

"If you had, your son wouldn't be left wondering why he has an 'uncle' that can't even bear to say his name."

"He'll find out why one day."

"Not from me."

"Other people know about...it."

"Well, if 'other people' know what's good for them, they'll keep their mouths shut," Severus retorted, dryly.


	24. 12th June 2006

Albus Severus Potter

12th June 2006

* * *

Over the years, Severus had become a regular attendant of the Annual Potioneer's Conference now that he actually had the time to travel and this year, the conference was in Germany. At the time that Albus Severus Potter was born, he was giving a lecture to an overcrowded theatre and by the time he returned to his hotel room he'd been delayed by several hours and the letter that had arrived in the early hours of the morning, wasn't read by its recipient until well after sunset that night.

Of course, as yet, he didn't know the name of the child, Harry's letter was very vague about it but it clearly stated that although the father wanted to see Severus, he didn't want the headmaster to rush. Instead he should finish his business at the conference, which of course, Severus found very 'gracious' of the younger wizard.

* * *

A few days later when the conference was disbanded for the year, Severus returned to England and apparated to the Potter's home. There he found a somewhat edgy Harry Potter and his much amused, though tired looking wife.

"You should have about half an hour before he wakes up," Ginny told Harry, "Good luck," she added before leaving them along in the comfortable living room.

"How was the conference?" Harry asked the older wizard quickly, before the man had a chance to say anything.

"Fine," Severus replied, monosyllabically as he sat in a chair by the fireplace.

He hadn't used to gravitate to the warmth as he did now but even on hot summer days, he felt the cold so he was at least a little grateful that the fire was lit. "How are the sleepless nights?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just great," the wizard retorted.

"What exactly am I..."

"Do you want a drink?" Harry asked him.

"No."

"Anything to eat?"

"I'd rather you told me what exactly it is I'm doing here," Severus said.

"What? I couldn't just ask you to come here for no reason?" Harry shrugged but scoffed when he was on the receiving end of a glare he knew very well. "Alright, I did have a reason. But before I tell you what it is, just know, it's all official and even if you don't agree, we're not going to change it so..." he trailed off when the dark glare intensified. "Right, sorry, well...we decided on a name for the baby."

"I should hope so."

"It's Albus," Harry told him.

"...Rather outdated, isn't it?" Severus remarked after a moment.

"Albus Severus Potter," Harry added.

"That...is not a good choice," the pale wizard grumbled.

"I think it's a good choice."

"It's terrible."

"I like it."

"Albus, I would tolerate but...no one...in their right mind...would give their child the name 'Severus'," Severus stated.

"Ginny agreed with me, she likes it too," Harry said.

"I'm told...that childbirth is quite an ordeal; she was not in her right mind. You, however, have no such excuse."

"You really like telling me that I'm crazy, don't you?"

"About as much as you enjoy giving me reasons to do so," Severus retorted and the younger wizard laughed.

"...Look," Harry began a minute later, much more seriously. "I'd erm...we'd really like you to be his godfather too...but if you don't want to...I'll understand. But I named him after you, after Dumbledore...he's only here because of both of you, so I won't change it."

"I've been a godfather before...and I wasn't particularly successful."

"A lot of people would disagree with you," Harry said. "Draco Malfoy and I may never be the best of friends...but considering everything that happened...I don't think he's a bad person. I think he was lucky to have you in his life. If he hadn't...who knows what might've happened," he explained but Severus still didn't look convinced. "I know he cares about you. A lot. And I know he trusts you. He could've wound up in Azkaban if it wasn't for you."

"I don't trust the Ministry...but I highly doubt they would have sent a child to Azkaban prison. Even then," the headmaster said, not at all convinced by his own words. He was as famous for his distrust of the Ministry as he was for his foul temper.

"They might've; legally he was an adult and the son of a Death Eater," Harry pointed out.

"Children...don't tend to like me," Severus remarked, "And your son won't be too fond of you once he knows who shares his name."

"I don't think so, and James loves you," Harry said and watched as the other wizard turned away from him.

Despite the fact that Snape had changed quite a bit over the years, he still didn't tend to deal with emotions like other people did and half the time, Harry never knew what approach to take when talking to him. He knew that fact that he'd named his first child after a man that had made Severus' school years so miserable, had to be a sore point for him. At some point, James Potter II would go to Hogwarts and if Severus was still headmaster, then he'd have another seven years with a boy bearing the same name as his childhood bully. No one would want that no matter how many years had passed.

"Then he's mad, just like his father," the man stated.

"What will it take to convince you that I'm perfectly sane?"

"...The boy won't thank you for this," Severus remarked a minute later, without answering Harry's sarcastic question.

"We'll see."

* * *

It was just under a month later that Severus received more shocking news; he was to be a godfather again...to another newborn named Scorpius Malfoy.


	25. 12th February 1999

Scars

12th February 1999

* * *

As the 'brightest witch of her age', Hermione Granger was very rarely confused but when she received a rather abrupt note asking her, yes 'asking' not 'demanding', to come to the headmasters' office that night, she admitted to being more than a little perplexed. Nevertheless, at precisely six o'clock she knocked on the door to the familiar office and jumped a little when it swung open abruptly by itself to slam rather violently against the wall behind it.

"Good evening, headmaster," she said, calmly as she walked into the room. She was rather proud of her composure when the door swung shut behind her and she didn't even flinch.

"Miss Granger," Snape gave an almost imperceptible incline of his head but didn't look up from a pile of papers on his desk. He was rather lazily dragging his elegant black quill over the papers as she approached his desk.

Silently, she sat down opposite him and waited until he set down his quill a few minutes later and pushed aside the papers he'd been signing.

"How are you, sir?" she asked, politely. She, like the Weasley's and Harry, and indeed a few other students like Luna and even Neville when he could muster the courage, had taken to asking him that particular question. At first he hadn't known what to say so he hadn't said anything at all but on rare occasion he did actually answer them.

He stared cross at her with piercing dark eyes but the young witch didn't falter as he stared back. "I...am well," he replied after a moment. "And yourself?" he asked.

"I'm good, thank you," she smiled.

"Pleasantries aside," he gave a brief shake of his head and stood up, using his pale hands to push himself up from his chair as though it took a great deal of effort. "I want you to read this," he said, picking up a closed book from his cluttered desk. He flicked through the pages before he found what he was looking for and held it out for her to take.

Curious, Hermione gently took the book from his hands and quickly read through the page he had specifically found. "W...where did you..." she muttered quietly after a moment.

"That is not important. What is important is that this will work," he told her, "There is your proof."

"Okay...then why? How did you even know about...about my scar?"

"Arthur told me," Severus answered and she nodded in understanding.

"And he asked you to..."

"He did no such thing," Snape said, "In fact, he requested that I do the opposite."

"Then why..." she asked but he didn't answer her. "I though it was...permanent. It was made with a cursed blade, I..."

"Bellatrix Lestrange had an extensive knowledge of curses and dark magic...however...so do I. I'll admit, it took perhaps longer than I would have liked to find the right spell to remove the scar. But...the spell requires a certain level of trust and I realise that you have no reason to trust me..."

"Of course I trust you," Hermione furrowed her brow at him. "How could I not?" she asked when he raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

"Show me," Snape after a moment of deliberation, "Show me this scar."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione folded back the sleeve of her school blouse and unwound the bandage she kept wrapped around the corse, raised welts made by Bellatrix.

"Why the bandage?"'

"It...it bleeds sometimes."

"Hmmm, I've seen worse," the man remarked, examining her arm without touching it as she held it out for him.

"I know...I realise it's not that bad but..." she sighed. The memory it evoked was worse than the word that it spelled on her skin.

"I don't expect this hurt, but perhaps you should sit," he said, directing her to his chair behind the desk.

"I appreciate the effort you must've put in, sir, but you really didn't need to..."

"Sit down, Miss Granger," he rolled his eyes and she smiled.

"Are there any...side effects? To you?"

"None," he lied convincingly.

"Well, could I just read the rest of the book before I..." she reached over at the desk for the book but it vanished before she could reach it.

"I don't have time to humour you. I have read it, cover to cover. You say you trust me, then do so. After this I will be leaving for the continent for a meeting and I will be too busy."

"So now or never?" she surmised.

"Quite so."

"That isn't fair."

"Neither is life," he retorted.

"I can't believe it's without any repercussions. It's Dark Magic, surely there's a consequence to removing it..."

"To the untrained, perhaps, but I'm no stranger to Dark Magic."

"...Even so, sir..."

"You're welcome to leave," Severus said, crossing his arms.

He knew he was being perhaps a little too heavy handed, but if she had a chance to learn about the spell, she'd never agree and she'd be stuck with the mark forever. He wasn't totally without feeling no matter what people thought of him. He saw it as one of his many failures in protecting the students, and ever one to try and correct a mistake, Severus had requested to visit the library in Malfoy Manor. With Kingsley seemingly willing to grant him almost any request he made, it had been easy to trawl through the books that Lucius collected only for their prestige. The man never read them.

"I can't risk anything..."

"Nothing will happen to you."

"I meant something happening to you. You've already done so much for us and now..."

"I don't care for sentimentality," he grimaced. "Now kindly sit down," he said, taking his wand from his sleeve.

Despite her reluctance, Hermione sat on the headmaster's chair and watched as the older wizard leaned over her and seemed to stare at her as she held out her arm. When she nodded, and only after that, he gently held her wrist and rested the tip of his wand against the centre of the scars.

"Are you really sure there's no..."

"Quiet," he grumbled back as the scar began to emit a faint golden light.

He hadn't said anything, nor had be moved his wand, he simply stared at the scars as they emitted the faint light and it lasted for well over a minute.

When he relented, he more or less fell back against the stone arch and his wand arm fell limo against his side as he released the breath he'd been holding.

"Professor?" Hermione leapt up and rushed to help steady him but she shook her off and stood with seemingly no effort at all.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger," he announced, "The scar is gone."

"What..." she frowned, glancing at her arm and gasping when she saw that he was right. There wasn't even a trace that a scar had been there at all. "You're right...it is gone," she murmured in disbelief. "Oh, thank you, professor!" she couldn't help but exclaim as she threw her arms around the taciturn wizard who subsequently froze in shock.

"...Miss Granger...kindly stop imitating Devil's Snare..." he managed to speak after a moment.

"...Of course...I'm sorry," Hermione replied, sheepishly, "It's just, I never thought...thank you, professor."

He nodded simply and then the door opened seemingly of its own accord. "I believe not even the seventh years can prowl the corridors at night. Do try not to be seen. I hear the headmaster is not a lenient man," he remarked, moving back behind his desk.

"I don't think he's so bad," she replied, smiling.

"Flattery will gain you nothing. Goodnight, Miss Granger," Severus rolled his eyes at her tenacity.

"Good night, headmaster," Hermione replied before she left.

* * *

"Miss Granger is very intelligent, Severus," Albus' portrait remarked when the young woman was gone.

"I thought you had sworn off talking to me until I 'came to my senses'," Severus scowled.

"I am warning you, my boy. She will not be best pleased when she learns what you did."

"She can't change it," he replied, morosely and slowly began to remove his outer robe and his frock coat. He placed them over the back of his desk chair and then folded back the sleeve of his while shirt to stare at his forearm. "And neither can I," he remarked, grimacing as very faint lines began to appear.

Slowly, the lines began to draw blood as they became more deeply edged in his skin and over the course of the next ten minutes, the headmaster was adorned with the same wound which had once been on Hermione's arm. It had taken longer than he'd have liked and each line that had etched itself into his skin had felt like torture. Of course, he was used to being in pain but he could imagine how horrid it would have been for the young woman however brave she was.

"You wouldn't have shown her the book if you didn't want her to find out," Dipped remarked from his portrait.

"There isn't another book in the country that will tell her anything," Severus hissed as the wound continued to bleed. "And no wizard alive knows this magic," he added.

"You underestimate her."

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but feel that she'd been a little too hasty in agreeing and, two weeks later, when she finally discovered just how the headmaster had removed the scar, she realised that he was a far better liar than she had given him credit for. They had both rather underestimated each other.


	26. 25th December 1998 Part 2

The Dark Mark's True Curse

Late 25th December 1998 Part 2

* * *

In the last minutes of Christmas night, Severus strode through the miserable walls of Azkaban. It had been about a month since his last visit and of course, nothing at all had changed. The Aurors were just as disgusted with the mere sight of him. The Dementors were just as hideous and vile. And Lucius Malfoy was just as angry, although his heart didn't really seem to be in his insults anymore. But then he had been alone for a month with only Dementors and vitriolic Aurors for company. Perhaps he was just glad of someone, anyone else, to talk to.

"I've been reminded...more than once today...that Festive cheer does one good," Severus drawled in lieu of a greeting as the door barred shut loudly behind him.

"...Severus..." Lucius hissed at him.

"I can't say I agree with them," the wizard remarked, "And by the looks of things, neither can you."

"Come to gloat again?"

"Perhaps later, Luci," Severus said, reusing an old nickname he hadn't used in years; when they had once been friends. He had to admit, he did rather miss those years.

"...Bastard!" the emaciated, pale haired wizard barred his fists which were chained to the wall. THe chains were more a primate display of barbarism than a magical necessity as the walls were reinforced to prevent magic. It was a far more effective psychological tool, though.

Severus could see the strong, black Dark Mark on Lucius' forearm and he could see the man flinch when the snake moved. It could've just been general aches and pains, the man was chained to the wall, but Severus knew better.

"The Mark," he began, "It's been months...but it's getting worse. Surely you feel it too."

"So what if I do?" Lucius scoffed, "I'm a dead man anyway. It doesn't particularly matter how it'll happen, does it?"

"You listen to me, you pompous arse," Severus growled, grabbing his friend by the throat and forcing him back against the stone wall.

Naturally there was no one who would interrupt and prevent the violence, no one cared.

"You're alive! Do you have any idea how much that means to Cissa and Dragon?!" he demanded, using their nicknames too in the hope that it would mean something to Lucius.

"Show them some respect you half breed," Lucius said, recovering from his shock at hearing his fond pet names for his family.

"This half breed is the reason you're still breathing! If it weren't for me, you'd have been given away to the Dementors as their play thing of the month. They made mincemeat out of Rookwood and Rodolphus Lestrange can't even remember his own name now. Is that what you want?"

Lucius looked away but his fear of the Dementors was clearly evident on his face.

"There's nothing we can do," the prisoner shook his head, "We all know it. Our Lord died in battle and we're to join him. We all agreed."

"Would you show such little regard for Draco's life, I wonder?"

"It's happening to Draco?!" Lucius exclaimed, shrugging off Severus' loose grip on his neck.

"No. You and I both know that he was never loyal."

"...Too scared," the man remarked.

"Too clever," Severus said, knowing that was what his old friend had meant. "He has more brains than both of us and we gave him poor examples to follow. He was given no choice in taking the Mark but at the very least it won't kill him."

"Does he know?"

"I believe your wife may have told him something of it but not all I don't think. He's concerned for you enough as it is. But he'll find out eventually."

"When Death Eaters start dropping like flies, you mean?" Lucius sneered.

"Yes."

"Those are our brothers and sisters!"

"Who care as little for you as you do for them. Don't play me for a fool."

"Which one of us will die first, do you think?" Lucius asked. "It's supposed to drive us mad first, remember? If we don't kill ourselves after that, we'll be torn to pieces by the Mark to join the Dark Lord. I imagine he'll have some...choice words for you."

"And for you, no doubt. You failed him in the end. You were out of favour. You fled Hogwarts before the battle was over. You know how he treats cowards," Severus retorted.

"...You first."

Severus sighed heavily and took a step back. There was simply no taking to Lucius when he was like this. But Severus was tired of fighting. He'd been fighting for two decades and he wanted it to stop. If he was to die by his own Dark Mark it was going to be after he'd put things right with someone he'd once called friend.

"I didn't do what I did simply to piss you off, you bloody great moron," Severus swore.

More often an not when he was angry just lately, he reverted back to old habits now that he didn't really have a reason not to. Swearing like a sailor had been one of his father's favourite past times and when the mood took him, Severus could shock even Remus with his language; a man who'd lived in some of the worst possible places a person could imachine simply because of his condition. This was tame by comparison.

"Ah...now that brings back memories," Lucius chuckled, darkly, "It's your inner northerner, Severus, I suppose all those lessons could only go so far after all."

He was a northerner, or at least he was considered one by a southerner, and he wasn't exactly ashamed of it. He had an accent, more so when he was young, before Narcissa and Lucius had taken an interest in him and started to shape him into the perfect pure blood wizard. Let it not be said that they hadn't done a rather good job.

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Severus asked, his accent seeping through a little. Now it was a rather odd mix of north and south as sometimes happened to people who spent large quantities of their time in another part of the country. "There's no one left to impress," he said.

"As long as Draco is alive..." Lucius exhaled, sinking back against the wall.

"What do you think will happen to him if you die?"

"He'll live."

"No doubt, but as what?"

"You actually care?"

"Of course I care! I'm his godfather!"

"...I can feel it...burning every night," Lucius said, gesturing to his Mark. "I didn't really notice at first. But it got worse. I didn't expect it to take this long to start actually causing real pain...as opposed to a little shock now and then. Of course, I'd rather have neither if given the choice though. I'd rather hoped it was all nonsense. I'd never really thought it was real...even after everything I've see no him do," he remarked, "It didn't happen all those years ago when he first..."

"He wasn't truly dead then...and none of us assumed that this...curse...was real. People used to laugh about it as I recall."

"...We all thought it was just a rumour. I thought, well, most of us, thought that Bellatrix had...come up with it to scare the initiates. She did love causing a scene, didn't she? Who knew that she was actually telling the truth," Lucius scoffed.

"Who else could design a curse that would still work even after the caster was dead? He was...more gifted in the Dark Arts than any wizard has ever been."

"And he wants us dead even from beyond the grave," Lucius replied. "We have no chance in stopping him. We couldn't when he was alive, Merlin help us now he's gone."

Severus turned to stare out of the tormentingly small, arrowslit window which offered a cruel glimpse of the sky designed to drive the prisoners mad with longing.

"I don't want to die, Severus," Lucius confided. His anger from earlier and from last month seemed to have faded away with little effort. "But there's nothing we can do. You and I...and all the others...I don't know how long it'll take...but we're all going to die. For some...it might be quick, for the weaker ones, I suppose. I'm hardly in a position to judge power anymore. I'm a prisoner. I hardly get fed and I'm tired. I might be the first to go."

Severus narrowed his eyes out at the moon which hovered serenely above the fortress and clenched his fist at the stone beneath his palm.

"You...might be one of the last. You were one of his favourites for a reason...you're not a weak wizard," Lucius said, "But eventually..." he trailed off.

"I know," Severus nodded slightly.

"So...is that what you came here for? So we can feel sorry for each other?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, turning back to the other wizard. "If anything were to happen to you, Narcissa would kill me in a manner far worse than the Mark ever could. You married a fearsome witch," he said and Lucius smiled for the first time, without malice.

"Yes, I did," he replied, proudly. "But I doubt you came here to tell me that," he added.

"No. Albus made a spell designed to help me when the Mark would burn. Only I know what it is. It doesn't last forever but it'll offer you some respite in the meantime."

"And...you can tell me what this spell is? What good does that do me? I can't use magic in here and neither can you."

Severus raised and eyebrow at him as gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk. "This spell is rather more like instinctive magic that can't be suppressed. Much more difficult to perform but much more effective than conventional spells. But sadly me teaching it to you would be pointless. Looking at you, you hardly have the energy to cast it and it has to be applied by another. My magic will, for a time, block out the Mark. Albus could manage it sometimes for days...but I'm not Albus Dumbledore. I've never cast it before so it may only last a few hours."

"Even a few hours would be welcome," Lucius replied, "But why bother? You betrayed us all. You don't care."

"Of course not. I've been offering to exhaust my magic for every Death Eater in Azkaban just waiting to see their reactions and now I'm off to see your neighbour," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," the other wizard retorted automatically but grimaced when he realised what he'd said.

"But the highest form of intelligence," the headmaster responded as they used to and Lucius snorted.

"...Severus..." the man began with a sigh.

"I've been doing what I can, Lucius," Severus admitted. "I know it's not up to the glorified standards you're used to," he said, looking around the pitiful cell, "But it's better than the Dementors."

He'd been bribing guards for months as a matter of fact and if it ever got out, then he'd be in a cell right next to Lucius. But thankfully, not all Aurors had morals like Alastor Moody so it was highly unlikely. Moody would've spat in your face if offered a bribe and shoved you in Azkaban regardless. He knew that because one Death Eater had been stupid enough to try it, many years ago. He never did find out just what had happened to the poor fool.

Without another word, Severus walked back over to Lucius and adjusted the restrains so that he could move his arms a little, for which the wizard gave him a silent expression of gratitude. The headmaster then held the battered wrist of the prisoner and examined the moving, hissing Dark Mark.

"Yours is...the same?" Lucius asked and Severus inclined his head. "Then shouldn't someone be helping you rather than you helping me? You're the headmaster, I'm sure someone in that place would help you."

"I've not told anyone about it and I don't intend to just yet," Severus replied, tilting his head at the Mark. "I've sworn Albus' portrait to secrecy but I've no doubt he'll find a way round it eventually. In the meantime, I'm working on suppressing the...curse...alone. Curses don't simply power themselves. There has to be something fueling it and I plan on finding it...and destroying it."

"You think you can best the Dark Lord? You're good, but I'm not sure you're quite that good."

"I don't intend on going quietly again," Severus narrowed his eyes at the man. "And neither are you," he added, resolutely.

"Am I not?" Lucius grimaced when the snake on his arm made a partially loud hissing sound.

"No, you bloody well aren't...southern git," the headmaster retorted, making his friend laugh despite the pain he was in.

"Well, challenge accepted. I can hardly allow Wiltshire to concede to the Midlands, now can I?" he asked, haughtily in his best aristocratic voice. *1 Lucius half wondered just how Severus could stand so easily and not show any sign of pain if he was feeling the same agony from the Mark when he himself needed the wall behind him to support him.

"What's so great about Wiltshire?" Severus muttered quietly as he gently placed his palm over Lucius' Dark Mark.

"It's got class," the man replied, snootily.

"And a peacock?" Severus mocked.

"I have lots of peacocks," he nodded.

"I didn't mean those stupid things in your garden...you prance about far more than they do anyway...and you've got more feathers."

"You...you...I am **not** a peacock!"

"Then Wiltshire concedes?"

"Never!" Lucius replied, just as seriously.

"...Peacock," Severus muttered, just loud enough to him to hear.

"Undertaker," the prisoner shot back, eyeing the black clothes and shaking his head.

"You're literally wearing rags, right now, you do realise that?"

"But I'm wearing them with elegance," he said, flipping back his once lustrous, platinum hair.

"And you smell."

"Well, you're..." Lucius began to retort but stopped when Severus closed his eyes and his hand which was covering the Mark began to emit a very dim light and the snake hissed lousy before it was silenced, taking the pain with it.

Severus fell back against the wall now that Lucius was able to stand, his mind no longer addled by pain. As best as he could, he helped the headmaster to sit back against the wall with his eyes still closed and his breathing, harsh. He was clutching at his own Mark, his fingertips scoring at his clothes.

"Severus?" Lucius questioned, furrowing his brow. "Severus? Headmaster?!" he tried again and shook the man by the shoulder when he got no reply.

"Don't shout," Severus eventually replied and his friend was able to release a sigh of relief.

"Be thankful I didn't slap you."

"...Like to see you try," the man muttered, his voice sounding strained.

"What exactly did you? The pain...it's completely gone."

"Blocked the Mark...for a while...doesn't mean it's not still there though...the curse," he explained.

"And why did you..." Lucius asked, taking in the sight of Severus grimacing face.

"I'm blocking your Mark, I can't exactly ignore my own anymore, can I?" he snapped back.

"...Ah," Lucius breathed.

"Consider it...a Christmas present."

"You hate Christmas."

"Tell that to the Weasley's," Severus grumbled.

"Got you singing carols, have they?" Lucius snorted.

"..."

"Oh, sweet Nimue, they did, didn't they? Please tell me they did. Oh, this is brilliant! Almost makes this all worthwhile. That image will stay with me forever!"

"I wasn't singing!"

"Humming at the very least then?"

"No."

"So you were...what? Their musical accompaniment? Really?"

"...Molly flipping Weasley..." Severus muttered as though that was all the explanation he needed.

"...You really spent Christmas...willingly...with the Weasley's?" Lucius asked, sobering after a moment.

"For a while, yes," Severus answered, raising a daring eyebrow. Clearly he was waiting for an angry retort but it never came.

"...I'm too tired to argue," Lucius sighed, "It hardly matters what I think anymore. They won, I lost. With the Dark Lord gone, I have to accept that."

"And the fact that if you annoy me, I can remove the spell."

"Yes, I suppose there is that, too," he shrugged as best he could.

"At least you're honest," Severus said, pushing himself to his feet, shakily to look out of the window again.

"...We're dead men walking," Lucius replied, still sitting on the dirty floor. "Well, you are. I'm a dead man imprisoned, but...semantics," he shook his head. "Even if this only lasts for a minute...I owe you," he said and Severus knew that wasn't an expression that can easy to Lucius Malfoy. "I haven't had a clear moment to think in months. And I hate to ask but...I don't know how long I'll last. I want to write to them at least once...please, Severus."

Silently, and without turning back around, Severus held out a sealed, white envelope from inside his robes with his hand out stretched behind his back, he held it out for Lucius.

"What...what's this?"

"From Draco and Narcissa. I've never smuggled something **into** Azkaban before. It cost a small fortune so it better be important."

"You..." Lucius breathed and snatched the letter from his hand he shuffled as close to the window as he could to read it by the moonlight and Severus tactfully moved to the other side of the small room, waiting silently. The man must've read it at least three times before he let out a quiet sob and folded it up again. But, Severus said nothing as it was handed back to him. "Thank you," Lucius said, quietly, "But I don't suppose I can keep it."

"Not advisable," Severus said. "As for writing back...that could prove to be more difficult," he said.

"No...that's enough. I didn't expect...Now I really do owe you, don't I?"

"I've been promised full access to Narcissa's private accounts. She kept a well hidden vault. Even the Ministry don't know about it."

"That's my Cissa," Lucius grinned. "Well, at least if I'm bankrolling this smuggling operation, do me one small favour with at least some of the money."

"What?" Severus asked, warily.

"Get some decent clothes," he replied. "You're trying to imitate a priest or an undertaker and I simply won't let it stand any longer, you're far too young to be either. My tailor would be delighted to make you some..."

"No."

"Just one set of robes..."

"No."

"One waistcoat?"

"Not even one glove," Severus deadpanned.

"But always the same clothes, Severus, every day for two decades! It's boring!"

"It's practical."

"Fine, if you won't have new ones made then use mine. I hardly have reason to use them, do I?"

"I don't look good in feathers," Severus remarked.

"I'm perfectly serious."

"So am I."

"Severus, those clothes were made to be seen, not to rot in my wardrobe. It's criminal," he gave a small smirk.

"You've been trying to dress me up since my fifth year. I'm not a doll."

"Give a dying man a break," Lucius replied.

"I'm dying too."

"Ah, you admitted it," Lucius exclaimed, childishly and then laughed.

"Hmmm."

"You seem remarkably calm considering..."

"Years of practice," Severus replied. To look at him, you'd never guess that he was in pain anymore.

Suddenly, startling them both a little, someone banged on the door, loudly, "Time's up!" an uncaring voice cried out.

"Oh, bugger off!" Lucius shouted back, surprising his friend, "It's Christmas!"

"Not in here it isn't!" the Auror shouted back.

"Charming people, aren't they, Aurors?" Lucius asked, dryly when his friend sighed.

"It wouldn't do to irritate them. There's only so much that money can do," Severus said, reluctantly.

"Ah...how the mighty have fallen," his friend replied, sadly yet theatrically.

"You'll fall further still if you give them reason."

"They don't need a reason."

"Neither did we."

"...True...true," Lucius conceded. "So...next time, bring me a book or...something," he said in a much more enthusiastic tone.

"You never read."

"I need something to do! Something other than counting the stones in this room. I'm this close to naming the blasted things! Take pity on me, headmaster."

"Would you like an espresso machine, perhaps?"

"What on earth is one of those?" Lucius asked, perplexed and Severus suppressed a smirk.

"A muggle torture device," he replied, completely serious.

"Are there muggles for me to torture?"

"Luci..."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes yes," Lucius grumbled, rattling his chains, "I'm in chains, Sev, what can I do anyway?"

"I've been promoted from 'bastard' to 'Sev' in one night. Will wonders never cease?"

"You haven't been this sarcastic since school," the older wizard remarked. "Have you been going to that old Parisian brothel again? You were always sarcastic and smug when we left."

Severus said nothing but he did glare at Lucius sardonically. "Does that mean Paris is not responsible?" Lucius asked, disappointed, "It does, doesn't it? Oh, you old boring headmaster. You've turned into a monk, haven't you? If I can't live what's left of my own life, at least let me live vicariously through you."

"One minute of clarity and your heads' already migrated between your legs," Severus lamented rather crudely.

"Have you ever known it to be anywhere else?"

Again, the Auror outside, slammed his hand against the door and Lucius practically growled. "Yes, yes, he's leaving!" he shouted. "Remember...a book...make it a good one," he muttered as the door opened.

"By 'good' am I to assume you mean..."

"I mean 'good'," Lucius emphasised, and Severus rolled his eyes while the impatient, self important Auror practically ushered him out even if he was scared witless the entire time.

* * *

Severus left the prison feeling surprisingly worse than when he'd entered it. When he'd arrived, he thought he was going to visit a man who hated him. But clearly that wasn't the case. He left behind a friend who didn't hate him at all , feeling utterly and completely useless.p about the whole thing.

* * *

A.N. I didn't want it to seem as though they've just forgotten how angry and frankly, cruel, Lucius was the last time they met. But they're both being faced with the likelihood that they're going to die and they were, at least in my head, good friends at one point. With no Voldemort looming over their heads, I guess they could start to be friends again. Why wouldn't they if life's literally too short?

* * *

*1 In case it needed explaining; Malfoy Manor is in Wiltshire so I'm assuming Lucius was born there. Severus was born in the Midlands.


	27. 16th June 1998

16th June 1998

* * *

' _Daily Prophet - Death Eater at Hogwarts_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been a fixture in this country for a thousand years and many of its headmasters have been celebrated as some of the most famous witches and wizards to have ever lived. However, on occasion it does appear to play host to people who would be better suited elsewhere._

 _Elizabeth Burke, for instance, was a well known pureblood supremacist who believed that children should be 'seen and not heard'. Phineas Black was reputed to have been the been the least favourite headmaster to ever grace the castle's halls and Albus Dumbledore may claim the distinction of having been the most eccentric headmaster of all time. The most recent to add to that already impressive list, is a tried and convicted Death Eater who, it seems, is to remain at the castle._

 _While the Ministry seems content to allow this Dark Wizard to continue to roam free, the rest of his cohorts languish in Azkaban and we have to wonder just why the rule seems to be different when it comes to the headmaster. He committed the same crimes as the others and he murdered his predecessor, something which he has never denied. Can the Ministry allow this man to retain such a position of authority?_

 _Questions are being asked as to whether the so called 'spy' has some hold over the Minister who, we must remind ourselves, was not elected to his lofty position...'_

"Now really," Minerva scoffed, tossing side the newspaper with a huff.

She was sitting with Severus in the man's cosy, living room in his quarters, high above the rest of the castle with the old portraits around the walls. In a few months, Severus would end up taking them down from the room so that he had his privacy at least in here if not in his main office. He'd already done so in his bedroom. Why Albus had left them there to freely come and go as he slept was a mystery to Severus.

There was a warm fire to ward off the last effects of his recent bout of hyperthermia and he was sitting relaxed in a comfortable arm chair.

"Well, it could have been far worse," Armando Dippet remarked from his portrait.

"How exactly could it have been 'worse'?" Minerva snapped, shaking her head. "She just about called him ever vile name under the sun all in the name of 'journalism' and I don't doubt she'll get away with it again. Honestly, you'd think she was the one with some kind of..."

"She's not exactly wrong though, is she?" Phineas asked, scoffing, "He is a Death Eater..."

"Yes, thank you for your opinion, Phineas," Minerva scowled at him.

"...He has been in Azkaban. He's still a dark wizard and always will be; one doesn't simply stop being a dark wizard, he knows that as well as I do," the man continued as though the deputy headmistress had never spoken at all.

With a hateful upturn of his lip, Severus conjured thick, black scrap of fabric, almost like a curtain and with a flick of his wrist, it flung itself over the man's portrait and muffled his disgruntled voice.

"And 'his' hearing happens to work perfectly well, you old fool," Severus grumbled.

"Serves you right, Phineas," one of the portraits laughed.

"I expected this," the headmaster said to Minerva. "And it's a perfect example of why I don't read that pitiful excuse for a newspaper," he explained.

"But..."

"I really don't care," he declared, "Besides...I've been called far worse."

"I just think that after everything you've done..."

"I'm rather surprised that you've stooped low enough to read it yourself," he interrupted her.

"I only looked through it because Horace mentioned that article to me this morning," Minerva explained.

"And you felt the need to read it to me verbatim because...what exactly?"

"...You don't deserve it, Severus," she replied, sadly.

"No...I deserve a cell in Azkaban," he said, "And a lot worse. I shouldn't even be considering staying on as..."

"We are not having that conversation again and do you really have to be so maudlin?!"

"Side effect of having my larynx rearranged," he snapped back.

"Merlin save me from the sarcasm of Slytherins," she lamented.

"He too was a Slytherin," Severus retorted and she thew up her hands, dramatically as she sighed.

"You don't intend to do anything about it, do you? That...woman...is free to write whatever she wants and you won't..."

"What is it you expect me to do? If I threaten her in any way..."

"I know," Minerva said, furrowing her aged brow. "But she's always been a vile woman, it'd do her good to be brought down a peg or two," she added.

"Well, when she starts insulting you for defending my 'honour', by all means," he replied.

"I'd like to see her try."

"Once she runs out of colourful insults for me, she may very well do so."

"Hmmm," the witch scoffed, downing the rest of her scotch from an antique glass tumbler.

"...Remind me," Severus began, haughtily, "The reason you're allowed to drink this fine whiskey and I am not, is..."

"You're on medicated potions," she answered.

"I am the headmaster."

"Which means nothing to Poppy or to common sense."

"I don't need to be mothered," he grumbled.

"I think sometimes, that's exactly what you need, young man."

"...Hardly young."

"You're thirty eight. You're young."

"I feel more like a hundred and thirty eight."

"Well, you don't look it. Thank heavens for small mercies," she smiled.

"Because that would be, quite possibly, the most catastrophic thing to have plagued my existence so far," he replied and she chuckled.

"I did rather miss this," she smiled when he just raised a confused eyebrow at her.

Over their long years as colleagues she had come to realise that it took a certain type of individual to converse properly with Severus Snape. They needed to be intelligent because he didn't suffer fools lightly; they needed to be able to match his quick wit and his sharp tongue. And they needed to be rather brave too because sometimes his remarks could cut the skin more effectively than a well aimed Sectumsempra. Which was perhaps why just lately, now that he was free to converse as he pleased, he found himself surrounded by Gryffindors. For them, it could be argued that bravery and stupidity oftentimes went hand in hand.

"..." he went to speak, no doubt to ask her what she meant, but she just waved a dismissive hand at him.

"It's late. Poppy will have my wand if she finds out I've been keeping you from your rest," she remarked, standing up.

"Poppy can take her sleeping schedules and shove them..."

"Severus," she frowned, "You need to sleep. Please...I worry. We worry."

"Don't. I can manage perfectly well without your concern."

"I'm afraid that's not something you have a say in," Minerva informed him, matter of factly. She then waved her wand and the decanter and glass she'd been using vanished, along with the tea set she'd conjured for him.

"I've been telling him that for years, Minerva," Albus' portrait remarked, fondly, "But he's rather stubborn."

"I hadn't noticed."

"I am still here," Severus sighed.

"And so am I," Phineas spoke, angrily from another portrait while his own was still obscured by the black sheet. "How dare you cover up my portrait, I am a scion of the ancient and most noble house of Black and I..." he rattled off but again, a scrap of cloth was cast over the portrait, only this time it wasn't black. It was a bold Gryffindor red with good trim and elaborate tassels.

"That's quite enough out of you for one night," Minerva snapped, putting her wand away.

"I rather fear a habit forming here," Albus said, his moustache quivering as he repressed his laughter.

"Now, I really must insist that you get some much needed sleep," she said to Severus, before turning to leave. "I'll see you at breakfast," she added.

"Minerva," Severus remarked before she could get very far. "Am I to understand from earlier that you are encouraging me...in all my Slytherin subtlety...to do away with Rita Skeeter? I have means, you know," he smirked a little.

"Why, Severus, you know I'd never advocate such a violent response," she mocked back but sobered quickly. "Of course I wouldn't. It...it sounds cruel, I know...but...of all the good people we've lost...she's not exactly a person I would morn."

"Nor I," he replied.

"We can dream, can't we?" she sighed. "Goodnight, Severus," she said, leaving him alone with the portraits.

* * *

A.N. As always, a huge, huge thank you and a Chocolate Frog to everyone whose reviewed so far!


	28. 20th December 1998

20th December 1998

Narcissa's Request

* * *

"Do whatever it takes," the pale witch said.

"It won't be easy," Severus replied, raising an eyebrow.

"If we don't do something my husband will die," Narcissa stated.

"He and I...and many others...are likely to die anyway," he said.

"This...curse...it affects those who were loyal? I only ever heard rumours so I'm not quite sure..."

"It was a rumour. We all heard it but none of us were convinced that it was real."

"Can you stop it?"

"Probably not," he admitted.

"Have you tried?"

"I can hold back the pain for a while. I could do the same for Lucius...but as for stopping it completely...I doubt even the Dark Lord could stop it if he wanted to. He wasn't one for revoking his Dark curses," Severus said.

"Have you tried to stop this curse?" Narcissa repeated.

"I wouldn't know how."

"...I don't know of anyone more knowledgeable about Dark curses than you, Severus."

"What a compliment," he scoffed. "I'll talk to Lucius. Anything else?"

"Don't tell him that we know...Draco and I. He has enough to worry about."

"He might not listen to me. We didn't part on the best of terms when I last saw him," the wizard sighed.

"Prison changes a man...I doubt he's had any more visitors. Maybe he's had time to think. You used to be good friends."

"People change."

"Please try," Narcissa begged and he nodded reluctantly. "Thank you," she said. "I know I've no right to ask this of you...you've already done so much...When you see him...would you give him this?" she asked, holding out a sealed envelope for him.

Severus took the letter and she held onto his hand with her own shaking ones. "How long do you think this curse will last?" she asked.

"In theory...it should have started sooner. I don't know why it didn't. Without knowing what's powering the spell...I've no way of telling how long it'll last. It could last for years...until we're dead...or it could last for days."

"Very comforting," Narcissa smiled, ruefully.

"Should I have lied?"

"...No. But I don't want either of you to..."

"I can't work miracles, Narcissa," he interrupted her.

"You didn't survive through two wars just to die because of a curse at the end of it all," she remarked.

"I wasn't supposed to survive," Severus admitted, honestly.

"Well, you did, and I'm glad you did."

"Hmmm," he mumbled, grimacing a little when he felt a sharp, stabbing pain from his Dark Mark.

Unfortunately, Narcissa saw it. She placed her hand over his arm where the Mark was and sighed. "...I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" he asked.

"For everything. I can't help but feel that...that Lucius and I...dragged you into all this. We encouraged your love of the Dark Arts. He vouched for you to the Dark Lord."

"I didn't need any encouragement," Severus told her. "As for the Dark Lord...he would have taken an interest in me without Lucius' recommendation."

"But still..."

"I chose this, just like you both did," Severus said as she nodded in understanding.

"...Good luck with Lucius," she said after a moment, releasing his forearm.

"I'll need more than luck," Severus said.


	29. 13th July 2001

Live Like a Muggle

13th July 2001

* * *

On the day that Narcissa and Draco were released from their Ministry imposed confinement they were of course, magically restricted. They had no wands. And, for good measure, they had magically restrictive, unremovable bracelets, one would almost call them handcuffs for that's what they were. But it was better then nothing.

They had no idea how he'd managed it, but the first palace they went after leaving their Ministry 'safe house' was Severus' home in Spinners End. A distinctly muggle neighbourhood that Narcissa had visited only a handful of times and Draco, never. Naturally it came as a shock.

"What is this?" the tired looking witch asked as Severus handed her a plate of food.

"Dinner," he told her simply.

"Yes...but 'what' is it?" she reiterated.

"Take away."

"Taken from...where?" Narcissa furrowed her brow and Severus snorted.

"From the Chinese cafe round the corner," he said, "It's beef."

"Smells...strange," Draco turned his nose up at the food.

"Eat it or don't," Severus shrugged as he ate his own portion quite happily. "There'll be nothing else tonight. Having spent the last three days more or less arguing with some of the most pig headed Aurors I've ever met, I found myself rather disinclined to cook. And I don't suppose either of you ever learned."

"I've always had house elves for that," Narcissa shrugged.

"You don't now. You'll have to learn. I can hardly send Hogwarts house elves to work for you. It was a hard enough time getting you both released without adding servants to it."

"Learn to...cook? Without magic?" she frowned.

"It's not difficult," Severus told her.

"I'm not accustomed to...but I suppose...under the circumstances...I am, of course, grateful..." she sighed. "I would appreciate your help, Severus, if you would be good enough to show me how to cook...without magic," she said and he nodded.

He understood that such a request wasn't easy for her to make and the last few years hadn't exactly been kind to the Malfoys'. They'd had to learn about humility and poverty since the Ministry had commandeered all their possessions. They were basically living off Severus' good graces.

"Tomorrow, perhaps," he said, watching out of the corner of his eye as Draco found the television remote and the screen came to life. "Right now...I'd say you have something more immediate to worry about," he said.

Draco exclaimed in shock, dropping the remote and scrambling on the sofa at the light which suddenly engulfed the smallish sitting room. "Uncle Sev!" he shouted and the headmaster laughed.

"It's a television, Draco. Having been deprived of one all your life, I've a feeling you'll get on quite well," he chuckled and then turned to an equally shocked Narcissa. "You son has been deprived of television all his life and he's just discovered it. Most muggles would be concerned in your place," Severus said.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Depends on your definition," he shrugged.

"What the?!" Draco exclaimed as he stared at the television and then at the remote in his hands. "It moved! I didn't do anything, uncle Sev, I swear!"

"You changed the channel, you clueless pure blood," Severus rolled his eyes,

"I changed the..." Draco muttered, pressing the same button again and watching as the images in the screen changed and then burst into uncontrollable laughter which was music to his perplexed mother's ears.

"Severus?" Narcissa began, blinking her delicate eyes at he screen. "That's a...a...monkey...on a unicycle?" she frowned.

"So it is," he nodded, stoically.

"Muggle entertainment?"

"Muggle entertainment," he affirmed.

"Mother!" Draco said, still chortling, "Why did we never have one of these?!"

"I..." the witch fell silent, lost for words. She had a feeling that learning to live as a Muggle could be more difficult than learning to live as a prisoner.


	30. 31st January 1999

Face Your Fears

31st January 1999

* * *

There were certain times in life when it was best to face your fears. Severus knew that. But it was never easy. It wasn't supposed to be.

Tonks was ill and unable to keep her husband company when he transformed that month. Minerva was watching over their sleeping child.

"I know...I know it's a lot to ask," Tonks coughed, "But he trusts you. He...it's not...it's not nice for him to be alone when he...I know you...hate werewolves. He told me you do. But you brew the potions for him yourself and I..."

"Don't," he stopped her. "Perhaps you've overlooked the fact that I brew it for purely selfish reasons. Namely, so that I don't have to face an out of control werewolf every month and have the Ministry vying for my blood when it turns on the students."

"He said you'd say that," Tonk smiled at him, "Look...Remus told me not to ask you. I swear he did. He'd go nuts if he knew I was. I think..."

"You're ill, it hardly matters what you think," the headmaster retorted.

"Please...Severus," she begged and he sighed. One day, he'd learn to tell a pleading woman to piss off. Maybe.

* * *

Once a month, the Room of Requirement was magically sealed off from the rest of the castle on the orders of the headmaster and tonight was such a night. Severus never ventured into the room when it was closed off and turned into the world's most formidable werewolf prison, now he was making an exception. What a fool he was.

The doors bade him entry and sealed behind him again, not to open again until morning, locking him in with a creature straight out of one of his own nightmares.

Remus was sitting in a metal cage and surrounding it were powerful wards and charms etched into the floor. The wizard looked up from his solitary vigil when Severus began walking towards him, his shoes clicking against the floorboards.

"...Severus?" he furrowed his tense brow, watching the headmaster stand before the cage, not not quite close enough to touch it though.

"Lupin," the man replied.

"Where's...Tonks?"

"Indisposed."

"Minerva?" he asked.

"Watching your ill wife and sleeping child."

"...Harry?"

"Working."

Remus sagged against his prison and sighed heavily. "Why...I know you don't...why would you..." he stammered, uneasily.

"Because I'm a fool, clearly, and your wife knows it," Severus replied.

"My wife..." Remus repeated, stopping when the first wave of his impending transformation began. It felt like being stabbed in the back as his spine began to shift under his skin. "I don't...have much time...to...Severus, please," he begged.

"The doors are bolted for the night."

"You're...urgh...the headmaster. They'll open for..." the werewolf protested, hugging his knees and clawing at his skin as he tried to stifle his cries.

"No, they won't. Not now," Severus said.

It wasn't an easy task for the headmaster to stand and witness. He'd seen terrible, unspeakable things as a Death Eater and done many terrible, unspeakable things himself. But werewolves were something different. He was truly terrified of them. Logically, he knew he shouldn't be scared; this werewolf would likely spend most of its transformation asleep, but things that scared you as a child tended to stick with you as an adult.

"I know you hate...werewolves!" Remus managed to hiss at him.

Without realising it, Severus had taken a step back but despite the pain, Remus noticed it and it tore at his heart. He'd thought over the last few months that they'd formed some kind of truce, maybe a reluctant tolerance on Severus part but an overt respect on his own. Now this would ruin everything.

"I'm...not entirely fond of students either and I'm forced to live with them every day," Severus shot back.

"This is different!" the werewolf howled, "Just go! You don't need to...stay. I've done this on my own...before. You've got enough to worry about...and I don't want you to be...scared of me!"

"Don't flatter yourself, wolf."

"Please..." Remus managed for the last time before the wolf overtook him completely and every bone and ligament snapped as it moved to accommodate longer, animal limbs. When he'd changed completely, the whimpering stopped and the heavy breathing quietened, leaving a sedate wolf but with a human mind. The whole thing had only taken a matter of seconds.

Severus thought it was repulsive, inhuman and not something he would wish on anyone...except perhaps the Dark Lord.

The headmaster found himself frozen where he stood but finally jolted himself out of his trance like state when the wolf raised his head a little to stare him right in the eyes. Although they were the eyes of a beast, they looked almost human and to a master Legillimens, the human thoughts inside the animals' head were all but screaming and clawing at his mental shields, begging to be heard.

' _I'm so sorry_ ,' the voice of Remus Lupin said to him.

Turning away, Severus conjured a comfortable arm chair and a book and sat down opposite the cage, giving no indication that he'd heard the apology.

"I happened to meet Master Worthington earlier in the month," the headmaster remarked, calmly as he opened his book. He portrayed the perfect image of clarity as though sitting down and talking to a transformed werewolf was just a regular occurrence for him.

The wolf tilted its head, confused as it whinnied at him.

"He's a Master Potioneer and he usually doesn't venture far from the Alps. He's taken to wandering a small, Swiss town up there in flesh coloured long johns. It's driven all the tourists away and it's driving the locals crazy," Severus said and the animal laughed, or at least it snorted. "Insane he may be but his current field of research is Lycanthropy. He wrote to me looking for some unicorn hairs and I supplied him with them...at a marked up price, of course."

The wolf rolled its large eyes almost fondly and rested its head on the ground, staring over at the usually reticent wizard.

"He has...a rather interesting theory...and a bleeding heart bad enough to rival the 'Boy Who Lived.' I don't believe it's possible to cure Lycanthropy and I don't believe he does either. He's mad as a March hare but he's not stupid. He thinks he can alleviate the...discomfort...of the transformation. We have all the same ingredients and we both have our own willing test subjects," he sneered a little but the wolf only seemed amused. "We have a bet. The looser buys the winner a Dragon's heart the size of a Quaffle," he said.

Now the wolf snorted even louder.

"However...I will be requiring something from you," Severus added. "Fortunately, you might not remember this in the morning so if you're uncomfortable with blood magic, you can claim plausible deniability. I need your blood and your hair...from...as you are now."

' _Blood magic?_ ' the stained and untrained voice asked him, mentally.

"And Dark Magic," Severus clarified in an attempt to scare the wolf back.

' _I trust you, Severus_ ,' Remus replied, instantly.

After narrowing his eyes, Severus just shrugged and turned his attention back to his book. In truth, there was no Master Worthington. There **was** a bet that was rife in the Annual Potioneers Conference and the prize **was** indeed a Dragon's heart, but Severus hadn't been to the conference in years so he had no idea if the bet was still ongoing or even what it was anymore. It tended to change each year from what he remembered.

He knew there wasn't much he could do to improve the Wolfsbane potion and he had in fact been working on an entirely new potion to alleviate the pain, but it hadn't really been at the top of his to do list. But he was an insomniac and he tended to work on new potions and spells when he was meant to be sleeping. This was one of the many he'd started in those early morning hours which had stemmed from the original Wolfsbane. At the moment, it was just a jumbled mess of ingredients inside his head but he did actually need the blood and hair for it. What better time to acquire them than when a wolf was sedated right in front of him?

* * *

It was a few hours later, when Severus was sure that the werewolf was sleep, that he collected samples of the blood and hair in small vials which he stored in his robes at all times. It was a Potion Masters' habit.

The rest of the night, he spent reading his book while the creature slept silent in its cage, unlikely to wake again.

All in all, facing his fear of werewolves had been a little anticlimactic, or at least it was when said fear was sedated. It probably wouldn't have been so easy if the wolf had no human mind to control it.

It was only later when the shock set in and he was forced to take a scaldingly hot shower and listen to loud rock music, that he was able to convince himself that even though he was dealing with his own curse, at least he wasn't a werewolf.

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, Remus awoke as himself again, lying amidst a pile of blankets which definitely hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep and he was alone. Until Minerva came to release him.

Using the fireplace in the Room of Requirement, she Flooed them to his rooms and helped him into bed beside his wife who was feeling a little improved. It was then that he told them about what Severus had said last night about the insane Potioneer. He wasn't quite sure why, but when he was tired after his transformations, he liked to babble, or so he'd been told, when he had a friendly ear nearby.

"Master who?" Minerva frowned.

"Worthington. Severus said he met him and they made some kind of bet and he came here to..."

"I didn't know there was a Master Worthington," she said, confused, "And if there was, I think we'd have heard about him visiting the country especially if he was such a lunatic."

"Think he was giving you the run around, Moony," Tonks told her husband, patting her hand on his chest.

"But why would he..." Remus addled brain struggled to comprehend it all until, finally, it clicked inside his tired mind and he smiled. "Oh," he muttered.

"Oh? Oh what? What are we 'oh'ing at?" Tonks demanded.

"Nothing," the wizard said, resting back in his bed. "Nothing...just...nothing. Minerva...will you tell the headmaster I said 'thank you'?" he asked as the deputy headmistress was leaving.


	31. 10th August 2002

Draco's Escape

10th August 2002

* * *

"Are you quite sure you have everything that you need?" Narcissa asked for the tenth time. "These muggle suitcases are very primitive. You can hardly fit anything in them. How they travel anywhere is beyond me," she bemoaned.

"I have everything, mother," Draco groaned as she straightened his jacket again. "You saw me pack everything. Twice!" he said.

"Yes, but I...I need to be sure. We cannot overlook anything..."

"I'll be fine," Draco assured her.

Though they were both still bound by magical restraints and forced to live as muggles, Severus had once more come through for them and managed to give Draco just what he'd wanted. He was leaving to travel. Alone. With no Aurors to watch over him. He still had to report his location to the Ministry every day and no doubt they would be keeping an eye on him, but he wasn't to be kept under lock and key anymore. He was free.

"Are you sure about this boat nonsense?" the witch asked, staring out the window of the Dover dock and the boats outside. "It seems awfully risky to me. A very unsafe way to travel," she shuddered.

Wearing muggle clothes had taken some getting used to for her even though Draco had acclimatised quickly. Even Severus didn't stand out much in his black jeans, faded t-shirt and layered jackets but Narcissa couldn't help but feel vulnerable and out of place without her elaborate clothes and robes. But she'd been forced to concede that they were just too flamboyant for everyday life in the muggle world. More to the pity.

"It's a very safe way of muggle traveling," Draco told her, "I've read books, really. It'll be fine."

"Severus could have taken you there and it wouldn't involve being stuck in...that..."

"We're as good as muggles, mother," he sighed. "They not...so bad...I mean...their food is okay. Cars are...quite nice. And TV...how we live without that makes no sense to me at all."

"But..."

"I want this, mum. Really. I...I can't stay here and...just do nothing. I need to go. I thought you understood..."

"I do, Dragon, I do," she said, clutching her son's pale hands in her own. "I...You should take this chance. Salazar knows, it hasn't been easy...and if this is what you want..."

"It is. Besides...I'll write to you. Uncle Sev said he'll send Fawkes and he's faster than any owl. And I have my phone..."

"I don't understand how you've come to love their...technology...so much," she sniffed.

"It's convenient," he defended.

"Hmmm."

"I'll bring you back something, you and father and Uncle Sev. Something from every country," Draco said.

"Never mind that," she shook her head, patting his hand. "Just...enjoy yourself," she said, hugging him one last time before he walked over to his silent godfather.

Severus had been standing off to the side, not wanting to interrupt as they said their goodbyes. But now, Draco walked over to him, leaving his mother to glare out over the runway again, and the young wizard sighed.

"Thank you," Draco said, earnestly. "For this...for everything," he said. He knew, however much the man seemed to have thawed over the last few years, that Severus was still not an emotional man. Draco wasn't quite sure how to approach a goodbye.

"When you get to Paris," Severus began, quietly, "Remember...Rue D'Cassini...Number 16. Ask for Virginie...remind her that she owes me a favour."

Draco snorted and couldn't help the pinkish hue that flushed his face as his godfather smirked at him. "I...I'm not going to Paris just for..." the young man muttered.

"I know...neither did your father and I," Severus shrugged, clearly not as embarrassed as his godson appeared to be.

"Please...I really, really don't need to know..." Draco exclaimed and the headmaster chuckled a little.

"The place has a remarkable view of the city. You'll thank me," the man said, sagely.

"For the view?" Draco asked, suggestively and the man raised an eyebrow in approval.

"For the view," he nodded, "Both of them."

With one last snort, Draco used all his Slytherin courage and did what he'd never done before. He hugged his godfather. He couldn't ever remember the man hugging him before and for some reason, he didn't want to let go when he felt the man's strong arms around him, even though the boat would be leaving soon.

"Don't do anything stupid, will you," Severus muttered in his ear.

"I think I've made all my stupid choices for one lifetime," Draco replied.

"I'm relieved to hear it," the man said, rather sadly in Draco's opinion.

"I'll miss you, Uncle Sev," he mumbled back, sheepishly, still hugging the man, finding it easier than looking him in the eye.

"Not in Number. 16 you won't. I guarantee it," Severus said.

"Well...I meant...you know...after...after that."

"Nice to know that I'm high on your list of priorities."

"Okay...before then," Draco laughed.

"Better," Severus said in all serious and gently pried his godson off him. It felt like he'd wrapped around him like Devil's Snare. Before he could speak again, they heard an announcement that the boat Draco was waiting for, was boarding now.

"I...I have to go," the young wizard said, heavily, picking up his bag.

"Dragon...remember...if you need anything...or if you want to come home...Severus can be there in an instant," Narcissa said, frantically.

"I know, mum," he said, patiently. "But I'll be fine, really," he added as she hugged him yet again.

"I'll see you soon, Draco," she said, finally letting him leave with the queue of others who were moving en masse.

When he was gone, vanished into the crowd, she sighed. "That was the right thing to do, wasn't it?" she asked, glancing at Severus who nodded at her. "I know...I know it is. But it doesn't make it any easier," she admitted.


	32. 23rd December 2003 Part 1

Lucius' Freedom

23rd December 2003 Part 1

* * *

It was in his fifth year at Hogwarts that Lucius Malfoy started to notice that he really could deny Narcissa Black nothing. The witch could've demanded the headmasters' head on a silver platter and he would've done anything to give it to her. Or at least, he would have paid an inordinate amount of money to have someone get it for him to then give to her. Anything she wanted, he gave her without question; lavish clothes, exquisite jewellery and magical artefacts of untold value. The Malfoy fortune was unlimited as was his adoration of Narcissa. The entirety of Slytherin house knew it. Though it had started as an arranged marriage from when they had both been very young, they'd quickly learned that they'd got along really quite well, not that it would have made any difference to the arrangement.

They also knew that Narcissa, the literal queen of Slytherin at the time, despised her cousin, Sirius Black, more than anything or anyone in the world. Therefore, so did Lucius Malfoy. The thought of a scion of the ancient and most noble house of Black being sorted into Gryffindor, of cavorting with muggleborns and half bloods, was shocking to all at the time.

And while a pure blood of a dark, ancient family revelled in his Gryffindor foolishness, a half blood of little note was sorted into Slytherin; a house that valued blood purity and social standing eventually became home to a waif of a child named Severus Snape.

Naturally, Lucius was horrified until it became clear that this was no mere boy. He had ambition. He had talent. It was clear that he'd been given some form of magical education but he had a rather odd accent; a mix of upper class pronunciation and a much less desirable, northern lilt. It left him, along with his odd sarcastic attitude, rather friendless and alone in a house, which at the time, had been composed mostly of wealthy pure bloods.

Narcissa began to see that her hated cousin despised Severus and it didn't help that the Slytherin boy's only friend was a 'mudblood' Gryffindor girl.

Lucius remembered the day very clearly out in the castle grounds, when Narcissa had approached him with all the boldness of youth and said, "Lucius, I'm bored."

"Well, say the word, my dear, and we'll go to Paris for the weekend," he had replied.

"I don't want to go to Paris," she had said.

"Venice, then?" he had suggested.

"I'm tired of my foolish cousin lording his Gryffindor superiority over me," the witch explained.

"Cissa, there's nothing superior about a Gryffindor," he'd said, shaking his head.

"Then, I assume, you'll help me?"

"You know I'd do anything you asked. You have but to name it," he'd replied, pompously.

"Severus Snape," she had said.

"Beg pardon?" he had furrowed his pale brow, confused.

"I intend on teaching him, and you're going to help me."

"I am?"

"You did say 'anything'."

"So I did. What exactly are we to teach him?"

"Well, not potions. I'd say the boy knows more than you about that," she'd smirked. Even in his first few months at the school, it had become clear that Severus was very gifted in the subject.

"What then?" he'd reiterated, becoming impatient.

"Etiquette," Narcissa finally elaborated, "Manners. Elocution."

"...I see," he'd nodded, after a moments' thought.

He'd been as good as his word. He'd taught Severus everything that Abraxas Malfoy had taught him and he'd had to admit that the young Slytherin had been a remarkable student. He'd watched the awkward young northerner grow into his confidence and his magic, which had continued to impress him. Though both would deny it asked, they'd formed a close friendship that had lasted for years and somehow, had endured through two wizarding wars during which, they'd barely spoke to one another.

But now, decades later, Lucius was left wondering just which of them owed the other more. The student or the teacher.

* * *

It was raining heavily that evening outside the walls Azkaban. It was also freezing cold out in the open air with the sea thundering against the rocks below and Lucius was shivering uncontrollably. He was being held aloft only by the two Aurors, one on either side of him, with his arms slung over their shoulders and his ankles still in chains which made walking difficult, so he was more or less dragged out of the fortress.

Severus Snape was stood at the edge of the small island beside Kingsley, the Minister for Magic, as well as the disgruntled head of the Auror Office, Gawain Robards and Harry Potter, a high ranking Auror himself now, and several other officials surrounding them as well.

"I won't be able to do much once the newspapers hear about this," Kingsley told the headmaster. "It was bad enough when we released his family. I dread to think how bad it'll be after this."

"That should be the least of their worries," Robards mumbled, angrily, "Releasing a Death Eater...of all the stupid..."

"You've made your opinion clear, Gawain," Kingsley sighed, "But the Ministry has agreed."

"Barely," he replied. "And decisions can be challenged," he warned.

"Try it," Severus glared back at him.

"I intend to...headmaster," the man sneered back. Their dislike of one another was rather infamous in the Ministry and they were perhaps lucky that they'd never been left alone together for people worried that only one, or neither, would emerge alive.

As the 'prisoner' was brought closer to them, it became obvious that the man was covered in cuts, grazes, scars and bruises and that his ragged clothes were torn, not to mention highly unsuitable for the cold weather.

"What happened?" Kingsley asked, turning to the Auror beside him.

"We needed to question him one last time, of course," the Auror explained, maliciously.

"And the reason he was not healed?" Severus demanded.

"I'm an Auror, not a Healer."

While Kingsley took Gawain aside, Severus stalked forwards and caught Lucius just before he fell to the floor when the Aurors released him.

"Severus?" the haggard blonde looked up at him, confused. Clearly he'd been told nothing of his impending release. He'd known that Severus had been negotiating for this for years but he hadn't known that it was actually a possibility. In the last few months, Severus had been forbidden from visiting the prison as the Ministry had debated the release of Lucius Malfoy.

"Who else?" the man said, sighing heavily. He turned to the Aurors who had mercilessly dropped his friend and gave them his best, most intimidating glare. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little pleased when they took small steps back in fear. "Remove those chains," he ordered them.

After glancing at the Minister who nodded, they did so and then, stepped back even further.

"...Am I dead?" Lucius asked, quietly.

"You look it," Severus answered, dryly.

"...Am I dreaming?"

"Of me? I'm flattered," the headmaster replied and he began to remove his outer cloak. It proved a little difficult since he was still holding his friend upright and Harry ran forwards to help him remove the robe.

Severus said nothing as he wrapped the warm, black cloak around Lucius' shoulders. It was a luxurious thing made from the finest fabric, lined with fur at the shoulders and embroidered with silver thread at the bottom.

"A fur lined cloak?" Lucius observed, "A bit luxurious for you, isn't it? Did you finally decide to listen to me about your wardrobe?"

"Hardly. It was a gift from your wife and son," Severus replied, "Your vanity isn't something I can ever hope to match."

"Oh, hex a wounded man while he's down, that's rather cruel of you," the man said, raising a mocking hand to his heart.

"I learned from the best."

"An insult and a compliment in one sentence...is it my birthday?" he choked, barking back a hiss as he caught one of the open wounds on his chest with his hand.

Harry could only stare in open mouthed shock at the playful banter between these two Dark wizards, both of whom had somewhat terrorised him during his childhood, albeit in different ways. He'd known, as many had, that during the last few years, Severus Snape must care significantly for Lucius Malfoy, otherwise why would he have bothered keeping the man alive for so long? Another theory was that Malfoy senior had been blackmailing the headmaster, although that seemed highly unlikely. But seeing them toss insults and sarcastic remarks at each other and in such a tense situation too, just like 'normal' people, was really something.

"What?!" Severus demanded, staring at Harry.

"...Nothing," Harry replied, quickly.

"Potter?" Lucius frowned, noticing him for the first time.

"An explanation best left for another time," Severus assured him and Harry nodded.

"You should probably get out of here...before Robards changes his mind," he remarked.

"Your pitiful Auror dog doesn't frighten me," Severus sneered.

"Maybe not...but I don't think a duel right now would do you any favours, headmaster...though a lot of people would probably be on your side," he added quietly.

"Now, this I really..." Lucius smirked.

"Not now," Severus scowled at him and he rolled his eyes.

"But an Auror that's less popular than you? How can I pass up such a..."

"Will you be quiet?" the headmaster snapped and Lucius chuckled.

"Very well," he acquiesced. "You know...when you were telling me about my freedom, I really did think you were joking," he said.

"Surprise...now back in your cell."

"Hah!" Lucius chortled then winced again. "Oh...don't make me laugh," he grumbled.

"Who's laughing?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"...So...I'm free?" Lucius asked, soberly.

"Somewhat," the other wizard replied.

"Of this place?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"Then let's go. Now," Lucius said, desperately and his friend nodded.

The headmaster managed to get Lucius to his feet and they made slow progress over to the Minister.

"Severus, I had no idea that..." Kingsley began.

"No doubt you'll be hearing from my lawyers, Minister," Lucius managed to drawl.

"Of course," the man nodded. He wasn't exactly thrilled at the though of Lucius Malfoy being freed but the harsh restrictions on his life, which he would soon learn of, made things a little more tolerable. "For now...you must come to the Ministry. This is not going to be a straightforward release," he said.

* * *

"No magic at all?!" Lucius hissed as the mediwitch attended his injuries. "Be careful, witch!" he growled. He was sat in a secure room deep in the offices of the Auror department with an aged, scowling witch trying to heal his wounds whilst he glared at everyone who seemingly existed only to irritate him.

"I don't think you understand just how fortunate you are to even be outside of Azkaban. We can hardly let you loose on the world with a wand," the Minister remarked.

"So I am to go from one prison to another?"

"Pretty nice little prison if you ask me," Robards grumbled.

"You can consent to magical restraints or go back to Azkaban," Kingsley said to Lucius.

"How am I expected to function without magic?" the platinum blonde demanded.

"Muggles manage perfectly well," Harry remarked.

"I'm not a muggle! I'm a wizard! A pure blood!"

"You are a convicted Death Eater. You're a prisoner. The world is a changed place since you last lived in it. That kind of superiority has no place in it anymore," Kingsley replied, harshly.

"Choose your battles, you fool," Severus whispered in his Lucius' ear.

"But I cannot be expected to..." Lucius ground out, but on seeing the seriousness in his friends' eyes, he sighed. "Fine. Fine. How long am I to endure these...restrictions?"

"As long as the Ministry deems it necessary," Robards smirked. "And...if you put so much as blink the wrong way...I can have you sent back to Azkaban in a nice, cosy little cell with the Dementors."

"Charming," Lucius drawled. He watched as the Auror take a small, innocuous looking bracelet from his robes. It was silver and etched with powerful runes; the same ones which still bound his wife and son. "I've never really been a 'bracelet' man," Lucius remarked, pensively and Severus glared at him. "Oh, very well," he relented, holding out his right hand.

It clicked together around his wrist like a manacle and the runes shone bright gold for a second before they faded and suddenly, Lucius felt rather strange. It was as good as having your magic removed, he supposed, so of course he'd feel out of sorts.

"It's really quite hideous, don't you think?" he asked Severus, making a poor effort at feigning indifference as he studied the artefact.

"Is that all, Minister?" Severus asked, ignoring his friend.

"I suppose so," the man answered. "I'll be sending more people to patrol your manor. It's a precaution, you understand?"

"'Manor'?" Lucius frowned. Of course, Severus had told him that, last year, he'd inherited a rather beautiful, country Manor House, but surely his new prison wasn't to be said Manor House.

"I won't be bringing them tea and biscuits," Severus remarked.

"You'd probably scare them half to death if you did," the Minister scoffed and gave him a respectful nod before he left with the mediwitch and Gawain Robards, who merely glared at them.

"That could've gone worse," Harry remarked, a little nervously as he was left alone with the headmaster and Lucius Malfoy.

"Your...assistance...was appreciated," Severus said slowly as though it were physically painful, but the younger wizard smiled at him in understanding.

"Assistance...Severus, what on Earth..." Lucius frowned, confused.

"Later, Lucius," the headmaster shook his head. "Much later," he said, raking a hand through his long hair.

The truth was, Harry Potter had quite a lot of influence in the Ministry and not merely because he was 'The Boy Who Lived'. He had argued almost as fiercely as Severus in regards to the Malfoy's release and it had taken a very frank discussion for the headmaster to finally understand why. Bloody minded, Gryffindors. Naturally, if anything went wrong, then it was Severus' neck on the line, but he wouldn't be going to the noose alone. Potter had risked his reputation as well and his superiors weren't exactly happy about it.

"Where am I to live?" Lucius asked, "I suppose it's too much to ask for Malfoy Manor back?"

"Correct. Fortunately, I have a Manor House of my own. It's well warded and far better than Spinners' End."

"And the patrol of Aurors is what? An added bonus to enhance the view?"

"Naturally," Severus said and his friend scoffed.

"Alright then," Lucius nodded and taking a deep breath.

"Your enthusiasm is endearing," the headmaster muttered, "I'll tell Narcissa you were ever so eager to see her again."

"Cissa's there?!"

"I told you she was."

"Yes, but I...assumed we'd be...I never thought I'd..."

"When have you ever known me to do things half way?"

"And...and Draco?"

"He'll be back later tonight. He's been in Paris again and he's coming back the muggle way."

"But you could just..."

"He's knows that," Severus shrugged. Though he had been busy lately and to his very great surprise, Draco had found that he didn't actually mind doing most things the muggle way. He certainly loved travelling but eventually, Draco had settled in Paris and he spent more than half the year there now.

"I'll never understand the young," Lucius lamented, standing up on uneasy legs. "Right...Prince Manor. Lead the way, Severus," he said.

"Potter," the headmaster nodded as he passed Harry, stalking over to the door that lead out of the room.

"We **are** Apparating, yes?" Lucius called after him, "I'll not be dragged through the Ministry in rags! I'll tolerate the Floo if need be! Severus!"


	33. 1st March 1999

MediWitch - Patient Confidentiality

1st March 1999

* * *

It was a substantial medical file that they encountered, more so than any other around them and the patient that it pertained to was clearly one used to certain amount of pain. It began its records from their first days at Hogwarts as a malnourished child with inexplicable bruises and scars, though the matron had written down her troubling suspicions. Each year it would progress as the matron recorded the child putting on much needed weight and that the scars would fade only for them to reappear the following year after going home and the weight would be lost again. Then the cycle would repeat again and again and again.

As the child grew, the matron recorded more injuries appearing during the school term and again, she recorded her suspicions and her frustration seemed to seep through the pages when nothing was done about it. In places the quill even seemed to have pierced the paper in anger.

Then, after seven years of constant ailments ranging from common colds to bruises and at its worst, broken bones, the records stopped. And then picked up again several years later. It seemed to be making up for lost time, recording injuries that had happened in the interim and these were far worse. It listed prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse resulting in a violent tremor which at best make work difficult and at worst, caused seizures which lasted for hours. Bones that had been broken had been inadequately healed and had needed to be reset. Scars drowned in a dark magical poison laced the patients back, never to be healed.

The list seemed never ending and far beyond cruel.

"Please...don't say there's more," a woman's voice asked, shakily.

"Lots more by the look of it," was the reply and the four people sighed simultaneously.

"This was...maybe we shouldn't be doing this," a second woman said, shaking her head.

But somehow it didn't stop them from continuing.

After a while, the matron recorded that the patient had been detained in Azkaban prison for a month and returned in a deplorable state. Malnourished, dehydrated, hypersensitive to light, and worst of all, locked inside their own mind in an attempt at self preservation, they were completely unresponsive. Albus Dumbledore himself spent weeks trying to find some way into this unresponsive mind without damaging it any further and his efforts lead to the headmaster exhausting himself and his own mind but overall he was successful.

The patient seemed to recover physically only to crippled emotionally. Muggles would call it 'depression' but wizards were shockingly far behind in studies of the mind. The patient seemed to take to bouts of severe alcoholism leading to uncontrollable bursts of destructive magic, at one point even casting the Cruciatus curse on themself via a mirror which exploded in their face from the impressive force of the spell.

As the years passed, the amount of injuries appeared to be decreasing, though the cold weather in winter seemed to bring about the old tremors and aggravated the scars of the irritable patient.

Then, in late 1994, the writing suddenly became erratic and in places the pages were stained with potions and with blood. Why they hadn't been cleaned with magic long ago, was anyone's guess.

Along with repeated Cruciatus exposure again, at which the matron worried that much more may drive the patient mad as it had so many before, she listed far more physical injuries than any person could possibly survive. Unlike before, the mind seemed to have been tortured as well. Some wizards referred to Legillimency as 'mind rape' and in this instance, the matron grimly wrote that she finally understood why. The patients' Dark Mark seemed to provide a near constant source of pain which easily explained his foul temper.

Following this, there seemed to be no end to the number of times the patient was subjected to repeated amounts of both the torture curse and of brutal infiltrations of the mind. At random intervals there would be times of the patient having been carried back to the castle, unconscious, to be healed, only for it happen again.

It culminated in the wizard having his throat severed and his blood poisoned by quite possibly the world's most lethal snake, the effects of which did nothing for the already existing tremors.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?!" Poppy Pomfrey cried in horror as she pointed her wand at them.

"Uh oh," Ron muttered and slowly, rather uselessly, closed the file and tried to hide it behind his back.

* * *

"Of all the disrespectful..." the matron paced before them, more angry than any of the, had ever seen her before.

By her side, Minerva was glaring at them in disappointment and Remus held the closed file in his hand as they listened to the long suffering medi-witch.

"You've pulled some stunts over the years but I never expected...you not only broke I don't even know how many school rules, you completely disrespected the headmaster! The oath I took as a medi-witch is a serious one that ensures the utmost respect to my patients' confidentiality! I dread to think just how Severus will react..."

"Do you...do you really have to tell..." Ginny asked, tentatively.

"Of course I do!" Poppy exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration in a manner in which they were all familiar. "Irrespective of the fact that the four of you somehow managed to break down my wards, you couldn't have insulted either of us more if you'd cast the torture curse at us!"

"We didn't mean to..." Harry began.

"Well, what did you expect? You know what he's like! He hates that I know half of what's in that file and if he chooses to do away with the four of you after this, I've no objection to helping him," she replied, haughtily.

"Poppy," Minerva sighed.

"I mean every word, Minerva."

"I thought your oath meant that you can't harm..."

"Damn my oath! It's already been broken once tonight!"

"I hardly think doing away with four snooping students will do anyone any favours," Remus said, sardonically, speaking for the first time. "Least of all, the headmaster," he added.

"Moony, I..." Harry spoke again only for the werewolf to silence him with a raised hand.

"That's professor Lupin," the man corrected, though he hated to do it. He had little choice. "And now, I think, we should pay the headmaster a visit," he said, standing up from the small bed he'd been sitting on.

* * *

Among the teaching staff, it was a well known fact that Severus was an insomniac, so the thought of paying him an unexpected visit could rattle the nerves of the bravest of men. If the man was actually sleeping and one was forced to wake him, it would mean a well aimed hex or a shattered object.

While it was true that they'd never been the best of friends, Minerva and Severus had formed a strange camaraderie and though she feared she'd ruined it after last year, she'd been delighted to find that the two were able to return to their amiable bickering which she had missed so much. So, when there was a need to wake the sleeping wizard, she frequently found herself being nominated for the job since she seemed to be the only one able to deflect the curses sent her way when she tried.

"I believe he's actually asleep," the portrait of Albus Dumbledore told them. "And you must know as well as I that that's a rare occurrence. Must you wake him now?" he asked.

"We've little choice, I'm afraid," Minerva replied.

"Very well," Albus nodded, grimly. "Then, I suggest arming yourself, Minerva..."

"I have done this before, Albus," she sniffed, sounding a little insulted.

"And I recall you swore to never do it again. If I recall correctly, last time he..."

"Needs must," she said, drawing her wand.

And so it was, with no small amount of Gryffindor courage, she left the students, the still fuming matron and Remus, while she walked willingly into the sleeping snake's lair.

After a moment there was a muffled cry and a loud crashing followed by an explosion of light as all the candles ignited in the bedroom and spilled out into the office.

"Damn it all, Minerva!" they heard Severus hiss. Curiously, they heard a rather northern-ish sounding inflection in his voice as opposed to his usual tone. "How many times do I have to..."

"Honestly, Severus," they heard her say, "It's fine. I was prepared. And it's not as though I'm incapable of defending myself."

"We really are dead, aren't we?" Ron grumbled and his sister nodded.

After a minute and following a muffled conversation they couldn't quite make out, Minerva returned followed by a tired and irritable Severus. His long, black hair was in desperate need of cutting as he kept being told, but he tended to ignore it and just left it tied back. Even without his frock coat and flowing robes, wearing just his trousers and a white shirt, he still looked every bit as intimidating.

"Potter," Severus hissed, the northern tone now completely banished, "I might've known."

He moved to sit behind his desk and he leaned forwards. He seemed perfectly calm until his eyes caught the file which was resting innocuously on his desk. On first glance, it looked to be just an ordinary medical file. He wasn't to know that it was his own. "Minerva," he began, "Explain."

"The wards around Poppy's medical files were breached, headmaster," the witch said.

"My oath as a healer completely disregarded in the process!" Poppy added.

"You've alerted St. Mungo's of this, then?" he inquired. "They are your first contact in medical matters, aren't they?" he said to Poppy, "I fail to see why I should see this as an emergency."

"The file, headmaster!" the matron lamented.

"What of it?"

"...It's yours."

"...What?" Severus demanded, his calm demeanour shattering in an instant as he dragged the file across his desk to open it. Once he saw that she was right, he closed it and turned his dark eyes to the four silent students. "And now much did you read?" he asked them.

"All of it...sir," Harry answered, seeing the familiar anger behind the black eyes.

"I'm not quite sure what brought this on, Severus," Minerva said, "But Poppy and I secured the wards around that file ourselves. The fact that four students broke them is..."

"Irrelevant, of course," the headmaster hissed, "Potter and his friends can do as they please. Can't you, oh great Chosen One?"

"Sir, please...just let me..." Harry tried.

"Silence," the older wizard snapped and then continued in a deceptively calm tone. "You realise...that by breaching the patient confidentiality wards, I would be within my legal rights to request a full Ministry hearing which could possibly lead to the four of you being expelled, relieved of your wands, and banned from working in any kind of medical or Ministry capacity?"

"Yes, sir," they replied, simultaneously. Fully aware that they'd done wrong, they were prepared to accept the consequences. Naturally, Hermione had done her research beforehand and they were aware of the legal repercussions.

"However," Severus grimaced, "As a former Death Eater, I have fewer rights than a vampire...so...legally, I can do nothing."

"Severus!" Poppy exclaimed.

"As headmaster though," he continued, slowly, not taking his eyes off the four students. "I am able to make even the events of last year seem infinitely more preferable to you. I could make your remaining months here worse than any torture you can imagine...and from what you've read...you know...I have plenty of expertise," the headmaster growled, slamming his hand down onto the file which was on his desk, making them jump.

"Professor..." Hermione bravely tried to speak, but Severus' dark eyes turned on her and she stopped.

"If you have any sense...Miss Granger...of self preservation...any at all, I suggest that you, all of you, wipe that look from your faces at once!"

"What look, sir?" she asked, confused.

"Pity!" he growled, swiping his hand across the desk, knocking over his papers, ink bottles, quills, trinkets and the medical file, causing its pages to scatter haphazardly on the floor at their feet.

His lack of robes did nothing to detract from his graceful movement as he swept from behind his desk and they found themselves taking an unconscious step backwards. "How dare you pity me?!" he hissed, stepping over the papers as he moved. "If you had a brain cell between you, you'd be fleeing the castle right now!"

Minerva knew just as well as Poppy and Albus, that it was difficult not to pity a wizard who'd been abused as a child, who showed such academic promise as Severus had, only to have ended up at the feet of a tortuous madman.

"Severus..." Minerva stepped forwards, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. He turned to glare at her but he didn't move away, nor did he shrug off her hand. The deputy headmistress then directed her attention to her four Gryffindors. "We've been waiting...I trust you have an exceptionally good explanation for your actions," she said.

"Entertainment, I imagine," Severus remarked, angrily.

"That wasn't why we..." Harry cried, indignantly.

"Of course not," he scoffed."

"We just wanted to know..."

"It was none of your business. You had no right...no possible reason..." the older wizard said, shaking his head, his long hair falling about his shoulders.

"We were only trying to help..." Ginny protested again but Snape sneered at her.

"Help?" he repeated the word with disdain. "The only thing you've 'helped' is yourselves into a mess of trouble you can't even begin to comprehend! This is far worse than sneaking into the Restricted Section...yes, Granger, I am aware of your midnight wanderings."

At this, Hermione had the decency to look a little sheepish as he continued.

"Medical oaths are serious! I told you keeping that bloody file was bad idea," he said to Poppy.

"It was well protected," she insisted.

"How long were you planning this little raid?" Severus rounded on Harry.

"Sir?" Harry questioned.

"One simply doesn't break the wards on the medical records on a whim, Potter. How long?"

"...Erm...a while."

"A while," the man mocked. "And it didn't occur to any of you in that time, that what you were doing was the height of stupidity?"

"Well, actually, it did...erm...sir."

"And what did you plan on doing with this knowledge once you'd found it? Tell the Ministry, perhaps? Do they give awards for the most time spent wounded? Is that it? Another Order of Merlin for me? Or were you planning to sell it all to the Prophet instead, I'm sure you'd make a fortune! I can see the headlines now...Death Eater tortured at the hands of his master...Would I make the front page again, do you think?" he asked, mockingly.

"No, we'd never..." Ginny protested.

"Well, it's gratifying to know that you have limits, Miss Weasley," Minerva said.

"We were only trying to find something about the Dark Mark!" Harry exclaimed.

"Prat," Ron grumbled.

"I heard...Moony...I mean, Professor Lupin tell Mr. Weasley about it," Harry explained.

"What exactly...did you hear?" Severus asked, dangerously.

"That it's still hurting you and that someone who had the mark in Azkaban went mad...because of it. We were trying to find something to help...you."

"While, of course, we've been sitting idle the entire time," Poppy rolled her eyes.

"You didn't honestly think we've not been doing everything in our power to..." Minerva said, incredulously.

"That's not what we meant," Harry said, quickly, "We just thought...we could...help...find something, maybe."

"Albus...I have a sudden urge to blast your portrait to pieces," the dark wizard grumbled.

"And why's that, dear boy?" Albus asked, cheerily.

"You encouraged this rule breaking nonsense."

"It didn't occur to you ask someone about it before bringing down the medical wards?" Poppy asked.

"Harry asked me..." Remus remembered. "I didn't think anything of it. I didn't tell him anything about it. I swore to you I wouldn't, Severus. I certainly never expected them to do something like this," he sighed. "I'm sorry, headmaster. It's my fault. I take full responsibility. I've been distracted, clearly, I..."

"Stop prattling," Severus ordered before turning back to the Gryffindors. "So...you wanted to 'help' me?" he mocked, "Stupid bloody Gryffindors."

"Language, young man!" Phineas Black scowled at him.

"Really, Phineas, you swear worse than him in a morning, and that's saying something," Dippet chuckled back.

"And now you pity me," the headmaster surmised, ignoring the bickering portraits.

"No...well...yes...I mean, it's..." Harry frowned. "We didn't expect...what I mean is...I owe you...we owe you. And I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for everything you've done. I know this...probably wasn't the best way to try but...well, if I'd have asked you it's not like you would've told me anything and I...I did ask you...a few times when we were...in the Occlumency lessons, but you didn't say anything."

"Because it's none of your business, Potter! Not everything revolves around you."

"He never said it does," Ron said before he could stop himself, "We were just trying to help!"

"You thought I'd appreciate it?"

"...No," Harry answered.

"But that didn't stop you."

"No. Neither did the consequences. Hermione read about them and we still..."

"You still broke all the rules yet again. I realise as the 'Chosen One'..."

"It's got nothing to do with that," Harry shook his head. "I just thought maybe...my scar used to hurt when...when he was alive but it doesn't anymore. So I thought if we could figure out why the Mark still..."

"The Mark is different from your scar, stupid boy."

"Yeah, that's why Hermione said...sir."

"Oh?" Severus raised an eyebrow and blinked his gaze over at her. "And what exactly does 'the brightest witch of her age' think about it?" he drawled, "Bearing in mind, some of the most talented witches and wizards at Hogwarts have been working on this, despite my warnings, and you think you know something they don't."

"You got rid of my scar, professor," she replied, boldly. "Of course I wanted to help. I figured out how you did it after about a week..."

"What did I tell you, Severus," Albus muttered smugly.

"The favour cannot be returned."

"I know that, sir. That spell only works on scars. The Dark Mark isn't a scar..."

"So speaks the voice of wisdom," the man scoffed.

"But I think I know why...the Mark is causing you pain," she said, quite confidently.

"Just how did you figure it out?" Remus asked, intrigued. Only he, along with a select few members of the staff and healers at St. Mungo's and the Ministry knew the truth.

"Yeah, 'Mione," Ron furrowed his brow, "I know you're a genius an' all but you never said..."

"I only just thought of it...I read something in the file."

"There's nothing to be done," Severus said, resolutely.

"How can you be sure...sir?" Harry asked, respectfully.

"It's **my** Dark Mark, Potter, I would know."

"I think...he's right," Hermione said to Harry.

"How wonderful. It doesn't change the fact that you broke the law," Poppy said.

"What exactly is your theory, Miss Granger?" Albus asked.

"Is this really the best time for..." Minerva sighed.

"Indulge an old man, please."

"Well, sir," Hermione began, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. "I thought it was strange...I know we'll never be the best of friends, but Draco Malfoy and his mother wrote to Harry, they needed someone to vouch for them. We'd already been talking about the Mark then and I wrote to Draco and I said I'd vouch for him...if he told me about it," she confided.

"Very Slytherin," Snape said with grudging respect.

"I would've vouched for him anyway. I don't think he's an inherently bad wizard and keeping him locked up won't do him any good. Erm...has anything been decided about that yet or..."

"Miss Granger," he snapped back.

"Right, well, he told me his mother never took the Mark but his father was suffering the same pain that other people in Azkaban were. But that he wasn't. I thought...maybe because he was younger and in better health...maybe he could just fight it off better than a prisoner could."

"Wrong."

"I know," she replied, quietly.

"Next theory, if you would."

"Sir, I really..."

"That wasn't a request," he snapped and she nodded.

"Erm...after that I thought it could be because the dark magic in the Mark was trying to escape somehow..."

"Also incorrect."

"Yes. When Vol...when his..." she corrected after a glare from Severus, "'Soul' left Harry's scar, he said it hurt and it did nearly kill him..."

"It did kill him," Ron muttered but Ginny elbowed him in the stomach.

"Potter's scar was the mark of a Horcrux. Really, I'm disappointed."

"The Dark Mark isn't a scar or a Horcrux it's..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I think it's a magical pledge of allegiance. I couldn't find much written about them..."

"Hence your midnight wanderings," Remus nodded.

"Mmmm," she admitted, "If it wasn't such dark magic...I'd say it was...beautiful. It's so intricate."

"The Mark is many things but beautiful is not one of them," Severus sneered.

"Sorry, sir," she said, embarrassed.

"Continue, Miss Granger," Albus promoted, kindly.

"Draco said something...he said you'd told him...more than once, that he was never loyal to Vol...to him, and that that made all the difference."

"You assumed, perhaps, that I was being sentimental?" Severus remarked.

"I did."

"Naturally."

"Well, he is your godson. I didn't think you were being literal until I read that file...sir."

"And what was so important in the file that you couldn't deduce from blackmailing my godson?"

"The Mark didn't start to hurt until you had to go back to...him...in our fourth year."

"The Dark Lord was dead before that."

"But he wasn't really dead, was he, sir? That's what the Horcruxes were for. He's dead now and this is..."

"Yes?"

"His punishment," she finished.

"But ol' snake face is dead. For good. How can he 'punish' anyone?" Ron asked.

"It's not a Horcrux," Remus lectured, "But it's made from You Know Who's magic," he said, avoiding the name, knowing full well that Severus detested it being said in his presence for good reason. "If you were loyal, the magic in the Mark was designed to latch onto your own. It's an irreversible process. After his death it seems to have been designed to..."

"To remove those who were once loyal to him as though he were some kind of ancient god," Minerva scoffed.

"And if you were only loyal for just a second," Hermione said, "That's all it would take. Draco Malfoy was never loyal..."

"But he's a total git!" Ron protested.

"He might be a git, Ronald, but the fact remains, he wasn't loyal to him. So the Mark can't hurt him."

"Quite correct, Granger," Severus sighed, running a pale hand through his hair, messing some of the dark strands from the ribbon it was tied back in. "At one point, I was one of the most loyal, as was Lucius. The Mark has embedded itself deep within our magic and without the Dark Lord, it's doing what it was designed to. You can't stop it any more than I can. So you see, you've wasted your time. Now...20 points for know-it-all-ism, I think, and 100 a piece from each house for interfering in my affairs and for breaking the law," he ground out.

"After everything we've been through...do you really think we'd care about house points, sir?" Ron couldn't stop himself from asking even though it seemed ridiculously unfair to take points from every house.

"You may not, but the rest of the school does. You have six months left. I will do my utmost to make you feel as unwelcome here as a sock amidst house elves but I will not be alone. After six months of being completely loathed by this entire castle you'll see that loyalty is a fickle thing."

"Do you always have to be so dramatic, Severus," Albus lamented.

"I'd hardly call this dramatic. Your golden Gryffindors broke the law, disregarded the Healer's Oath, not to mention, once again, they went snooping around in other people's business."

"But their intentions..."

"Damn their intentions!"

"We can't simply do nothing, Albus," Minerva agreed, "This is a rather serious offence, I'm afraid. Honourable though your intentions are, you have to realise that some things are beyond your control."

"But...we can't just do nothing," Harry protested.

"We haven't been 'doing nothing'," Poppy scoffed.

"We'd have had months to consider the problem if you'd come clean about this curse sooner," Minerva berated the headmaster.

"Hmmm," the man grumbled. Clearly he'd heard this all before.

"What about Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione asked, "I may not like him...but it would destroy Draco if anything happened to him."

It was true they'd never be best friends, but they'd both agreed to some kind of warped truce in their letters and, kind hearted as she was, she'd not wish the death of a parent on anyone.

"You think I don't know that?!" Severus hissed.

Lucius had once been his friend, and Severus was, he'd proven, a very loyal friend no matter what that friend did. They only reason he'd agreed to be a 'lab rat' to Poppy and the others was to find something to help Lucius. The man was weak and quite possibly near death, locked in Azkaban away from his family who knew full well what awaited him.

"We're doing what we can for Malfoy senior," Minerva remarked.

"But Draco didn't say anything about..."

"He doesn't know," Severus interrupted her.

"Why?! He's worried sick!"

"False hope is cruel, Miss Granger. Lucius and I knew what we were agreeing to when we took the Mark. We're both fully prepared for the consequences."

"You...spoke to him...about this?" she inferred.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh," he repeated, mockingly. He sighed heavily and turned to Remus. "For now...get them out of my sight," he ordered. The werewolf nodded and lead the four students out of the office.

"Legally, headmaster...I have to inform the hospital...and at worst...the Ministry as well," Poppy said, "And I'm supposed to do it as soon as possible."

"Then what happens?" Minerva asked.

"At best...I get a professional wrist slapping."

"And at worst?" Severus asked.

"There's an in investigation into my work, my practices and why four students were able to break my wards. They'll look into the file they stole...and the allegations I made in it. I know you valve your privacy, Severus...but they won't care about that."

"I told you that file was a..."

"I know...I'm beginning to think you were right," the matron sighed.

"If we don't inform the..." Minerva began.

"Thats not an option," Severus interrupted quickly, "Potter and his cohorts break enough rules. I will not encourage..."

"And what happens when the Ministry sees that file? Do you think they'll be sympathetic? They'll use it as proof that you're unfit to do your job and they'll have you out of the school before the end of the week," Minerva said.

"Am afraid I rather agree," Albus remarked.

"Of course you would," Severus said.

"So...what do we do?" Poppy asked him and it was a while before she got an answer.


	34. 20th September 1998

Amanda Taylor's Problem

20th September 1998

* * *

Amanda Taylor was small for an eleven year old. She had a round face with bright blue eyes and long, curly brown hair. She adored books and so far, she had proven to be a model student. The professors were going so far as to say she could very likely end up being the Slytherin version of Hermione Granger if she carried on the same way. She was quiet, exceptionally so, she didn't tend to talk to anyone at meal times and all of her free time was spent in the library. She was also a Muggleborn and so many Slytherins took an instant dislike to her.

There was enough trouble in the house of Serpents after the war and many had turned against their own. So the young Amanda began to bare the brunt of their anger.

She was walking alone through the corridor next to the open courtyard with only her books for company that morning, while everyone else chatted happily to their new friends about their next lessons, when suddenly someone shoved her precious books from her arms and ran, hissing 'bookworm' and 'Slytherin snake' as they ran. It wasn't the first time it had happened and she thought that it probably wouldn't be the last either. She also knew who had done it and she really didn't know why the first year Gryffindor hated her so much.

She'd never really had friends in the muggle schools she'd been to before either and her muggle parents had often told that she should try harder to fit in. She hadn't been given much of a chance here though.

As the corridor quickly emptied, she sighed and was about to kneel down to pick up her books when they suddenly sorted themselves into a neat pile and floated up into the air where she could easily grasp them. She blinked in confusion. She looked up to see the imposing form of Severus Snape standing before her.

"Headmaster?!" she exclaimed, "Did you...thank you, sir."

Severus had quickly gained a reputation for being rather elusive and this was perhaps one of the first times he'd left his office since the start of the term. Well, at least it was during the day time. It was easy to stalk the corridors at night when you were used to disappearing into the shadows.

But, after a while, and with Minerva and Albus deciding not to give him a moment's peace, he had practically forced himself to take a walk through the castle. He really hadn't planned on being seen by anyone, let alone a student, but when he'd seen the girl's books shoved to the floor, he'd found himself turning back to help her.

He said nothing as she clutched at the books in her hands like they were valuable somehow. He knew that look well.

"I erm...I tripped and I...I dropped my books..." the girl rambled, unconvincingly.

"I see," Severus replied, quietly.

"I...I really should...I'll just..." she muttered before walking quickly around him, intending to make her way down the now quiet corridor.

"Is your clumsiness limited only to when Mr. Jackson and his cohorts scurry past you?" Severus asked her and she stopped moving and turned as white as a ghost.

"I...I don't know...I mean, I..."

"Your Prefects are there for a reason, Miss. Taylor, as is your Head of House."

"Well...Professor Slughorn always seems...kinda busy...and I didn't want to...bother anyone...I guess."

"Clearly Mr. Jackson doesn't mind 'bothering' you."

"...No...sir," she sniffed.

"Why?"

"I didn't do anything..."

"Neither did I imply that you had. But...people don't always need a reason," he remarked, insightfully.

Were she perhaps a little older, she would have wondered just how he knew so much about it, but children rarely think about such things.

"They just...don't like me," she answered.

"And why is that?" Severus asked.

"Don't know, sir."

"Do you not?" he asked, raising a perceptive eyebrow at her.

"Well...I guess it's 'cause...I...read too much."

"And reading too much is a problem?"

"When you're just a kid, yeah...sir. Mum says I shouldn't read so much," the girl sighed. "She says no one likes a 'know it all', but it's not like I want to be a 'know it all'. I just like to read. I tried to be nice...but I don't know...what to do. Sir...what should I do...sir?" she asked, eyes full of a childish need for guidance.

As a Slytherin, even though Severus was no longer their Head of House, she had been told by the Prefects, carefully chosen by the man himself so's not to spread the Dark Lord's ideology, that the man was first and foremost, one of them. From everything else she'd heard in her short amount of time in the wizarding world, she believed that the headmaster was a brave man, albeit a little scary. But maybe, like in many of the books she'd read, maybe there was more to the intimidating headmaster than first met the eye; it was a valuable lesson for any child to learn and Amanda had learned it from many, many books.

"...You have...options, Miss. Taylor," he remarked after a moment. He couldn't help but notice that she was in a remarkable situation to his own, many years ago and he couldn't simply just walk away and leave her there.

"What options, sir?"

"You fight back," he said simply. Possibly not the best advice to give to a student considering the fact that he was the headmaster, but then again, he wasn't the world's most conventional headmaster and he had little sympathy for childhood bullies that mirrored his own.

"I...thought we weren't allowed to fight students..." Amanda furrowed her brow.

"Be subtle. You are a Slytherin."

"I don't..." she frowned, timidly, clearly she wasn't the fighting type.

"Then you tell your Prefects."

"But I...I don't want them to think I've...done something wrong or...He'll just be put in detention and then he'll hate me more and it'll just get worse and I..."

"Then do nothing," Severus said.

"Couldn't I just...ask him...why he hates me?"

"You could...but do you expect an answer?" he raised an eyebrow.

"...No. Not really," she sighed. "I should go..." she added after a minute before practically running off down the corridor.

* * *

What many people didn't know about Severus Snape was that he was used to dealing with the bullies of young Slytherins. It was the house which no one else defended and so he had to. Of course, those students that he'd helped came to realise that they couldn't tell others about this and they learned to respect the fact that he was so feared by others. They didn't need to be afraid of the Dungeon Bat like everyone else. Young miss Taylor learned this rather quickly.

After the incident in the corridor, she noticed that instead of Micheal Jackson tormenting her again, he gave her nervous looks and tended to run away. As time passed, he began to talk to her and they became friends. Though she was sorely tempted, she never asked about why he'd been so cruel to her or why he'd changed his attitude. She felt as though she had the headmaster to thank though. Somehow. Though it wouldn't be until her last day of school when she'd work up the nerve to actually ask the man about it and even then she didn't get a straight answer.


	35. 30th December 2003

Harry's Promotion

30th December 2003

* * *

Gawain Robards, the Head of the Auror Office, was dead. The man to succeed him was Harry Potter and his first assignment was to track down the Dark Wizards that had killed his mentor. Robards had been in Eastern Europe following rumours that there was a growing movement of 'Neo Death Eaters' and that was to be Harry's destination. He wasn't quite sure how long he was to be there for either so before he left the country so, despite the fact that it was still Christmas time, after saying his goodbyes to his family, he visited Hogwarts and was now sitting with Remus, Tonks and Minerva in the werewolf's warm quarters.

"More Death Eaters," Tonks shuddered with a grimace. "Great. Just what we need," she grumbled.

"I'd hoped that the rumours were...well...just rumours," Remus sighed.

"Guess not," his wife said.

"Mmmm," Harry hummed.

"And there's nothing we could say to stop you from going?" Remus asked Harry.

"It's my job. I have to go," Harry replied. "And I owe it to Gawain. I know he wasn't the most...likeable...of Aurors but he was a good man. He didn't deserve what he got," he said, thinking of the man's violent death.

"No, he didn't," Tonks agreed.

"This whole thing is such a mess," the Auror sighed, tiredly.

"Harry..." Remus began but the younger wizard stood quickly.

"It's getting late," Harry declared, of wanting to hear the same argument again, "I have to go."

"Do be careful," Minerva said, kindly.

* * *

As he walked the dark, deserted corridors of Hogwarts, Harry pulled his travelling cloak tightly around him. He couldn't help but feel guilty about the whole thing. Gawain Robards had no family, so he worked every day unless he was ill, and even then he'd probably try his damnedest to drag himself to the Office. Harry had wanted to help his mentor, but he also wanted to spend time with his family. There was only so much time in the week that he actually did see them and not to do so at Christmas seemed a terrible sacrifice to make. Gawain had said as much to him and all but ordered him home. Maybe if he'd ignored the man, he'd still be alive.

"Potter," the headmaster drawled and Harry stopped. "A little old to be wandering the castle after dark, aren't you?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Old habits," the Auror smiled.

Severus was wearing a thick travelling cloak with a hood which he pushed back when Harry turned around to face him.

"Going out?" Harry asked.

"No," the headmaster answered, brushing the snow from his cloak.

Not only was it cold outside, it was also snowing and considering that he felt the cold more since his Nagini's attack, he found he hated winter more and more with each passing year. His cloak had been a gift from Narcissa and Draco, they'd had it lined with fur and enchanted, though obviously not by them personally because they were without magic, to always keep him warm and it seemed to work very well.

"Oh," Harry hummed. "And...erm...how's...how's Malfoy?" he felt compelled to ask.

Severus grimaced a little and Harry started at him, confused. "The man's a spoilt egocentric now lacking his magic and his money. How do you think he is?" the older wizard replied, sighing.

"So...it's not...going too well then?"

"He's broke two toasters, set fire to some soup, threatened my house elf with freedom and smashed a mirror...today."

"...He set fire to soup?" Harry repeated, incredulously.

"Don't ask," Severus shook his head.

He'd been at his Manor for the last week for the Christmas holiday and since Lucius had been released from Azkaban, all the wizard seemed to do all day was find new ways to complain about the lack of his magic every hour. He despised everything muggle. It didn't seem to matter that he and and Narcissa tried to show him that living without magic was possible, however much she still hated it. With the full moon due in a week, he was coming to the castle to give Remus his potion, even though he didn't really need it today, and to get away from Lucius' complaints for a while. He knew his friend was grateful for being released, but it was never going to be easy for him to adapt to life without magic, money or influence.

After a quiet, albeit cold walk through Hogsmede, the relentless banging in his head had begun to subside only for him to find himself face to face with Harry Potter. Perhaps a visit to The Hogs Head was in order soon.

"I'm erm...I was talking to Moony," Harry said, conversationally. "I got promoted," he said.

"To...what?"

"...Head of the Auror Office."

"Am I to assume that your predecessor did not retire?" the headmaster surmised. Aurors weren't known to retire really. They generally kept going until a Dark Wizard caught up with them. Remus and Tonks were odd exceptions.

"No."

"Ah," Severus pursed his lip. "My...condolences," he said though clearly his heart wasn't in it. Unlike Severus himself, Harry had actually gotten along quite well with Gawain Robards and most people knew it.

"Thanks," Harry smiled, ruefully, "Molly said you were coming to the Burrow for New Years..."

"I said I might..." Severus said as he did every year. Sometimes he did go and sometimes he didn't but Molly and Arthur never held it against him if he didn't go.

"I won't...be there this year," Harry said. "But I left something for you. Found it in the vaults last month and I figured you could use it for something. Took me ages to file the paperwork for it."

"Is this a bribe?"

"No...maybe...is it working?" Harry asked while Severus just stared at him. "I just...i wouldn't normally...can I ask a favour...please?"

Intrigued, Severus nodded and leaned back against the stone wall, crossing his arms. Harry sighed and cast a silent 'muflatio' around them.

"There's no one here," Severus told him.

"Better safe than sorry," the Auror replied.

"My office then," Severus said and reached out his hand from his cloak. After waiting for a nod from Harry, he grabbed the other wizards' forearm and apparated them both to his office.

Once there, Severus shrugged out of his travelling cloak, tossed it over his desk and wandered into his sitting room before the portraits even had the chance to notice him. Most of them were probably asleep anyway. He lit the fire with a small wave of his hand and sat down while Harry walked cautiously into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Sit down," Severus said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't bite," he added.

Harry scoffed a little as he sat on one of the familiar comfortable chairs around the fire. "I really don't have a lot of time..." he said.

"Then get to the point."

"...I'm guessing you've heard the rumours...about Death Eaters...Neo Death Eaters they're calling them. They killed Gawain when he was tracking them in Europe and I have to find them..."

"And what exactly am I supposed to do about it?"

"About that? Nothing...it's my job to find them and I will," Harry replied. "I'd have been there with him now but I missed last Christmas and he practically ordered me back home last week...and maybe if I'd said 'no' he'd still be alive."

"Or you'd both be dead," Severus said, stoically.

"...Yeah," Harry sighed. "Anyway...we didn't find anything to prove there's any of them here...but if there is...then you'll probably be on their hit list too."

"How terrible," the man retorted and Harry sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"These...people mean business, they don't mess around. I know you're more than capable of protecting yourself and the school if necessary but I could hardly leave without warning you. I don't know why...but they're copying the Death Eaters in every way. They've killed muggles, Aurors and children and...we think they've had at least one...revel," the Auror said.

"...Then...they must be in contact with someone who was there in those early days. Those revels stopped almost as quickly as they started; the Dark Lord tired of them easily. Don't ask me why."

"We suspected as much...them being in contact with someone, I mean. But we can't figure out who."

"It wouldn't necessarily have to be a branded Death Eater or even someone known to the Ministry. Not all of the faithful bore the Mark," Severus said. "Those revels were huge, there were hundreds of people who attended and it's not as though we kept a list."

"More to the pity," Harry grumbled.

"Well...what's this favour you wanted to ask, then?" the headmaster asked after a moment.

"You're not going to like it."

"That's usually implied when someone's asks a 'favour'," Severus replied, dryly.

"You're really not going to like it," Harry reiterated.

"I like this stalling even less."

"Will you...erm...Kingsley and I...we're worried, you see...and I...I wanted to ask if you'd...just keep in touch with the Ministry every now and then...just to let us know that..."

"No."

"But we're worried! If these people are copying Death Eaters then they're going to try and rise through the ranks by targeting their enemies. You and me...the Weasley's...even the Malfoys could be on their list now!"

"I'm more than capable of..."

"I know you are but that makes you an even more attractive target. They'll get more favour by targeting you even if they lose. Just let someone know that you're alright. Just a one word letter...insult them if you want, I don't care. If something happens, you'll probably catch wind of it first and if they even try and sneak up on you..."

"There'll be nothing left for your people to interrogate."

"Good," Harry said, "These new Death Eaters aren't pulling their punches so I don't see why we should either. Just...please...be careful. Gawain was maybe just as strong as you and they killed him. People are saying...this could start another war. We were all just starting to get over the last one...we don't need another. "

"It rarely waits for a convenient time."

"No," the Auror sighed, "No, it doesn't."

"Next you'll be telling me you want an Auror guard or two at my door to keep watch," Severus scoffed. Harry remained silent and this only made the older wizard suspicious. "Surely you'd know better than do suggest something so stupid, wouldn't you?" Severus demanded.

"I'd like to post some people to keep watch...but you'd probably sneak by them easily."

"Or turn them into potion ingredients."

"So...no...there won't be any guards," Harry smiled, "As long as you keep in touch with Kingsley or with my deputy, Erina Kazmov."

"That's hardly a threat."

"I'm not trying to threaten you," Harry told him. "I'd never do that. I'm trying to be...a friend," he admitted and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked, sceptically.

"Really," Harry insisted.

"I'll never understand you Gryffindors," Severus shook his head.

"Maybe it's best not to try," the younger wizard smiled.

"Hmmm."


	36. 13th February 1999

13th February 1999

An Impossible Cure

* * *

Last night, Severus had been talking to Minerva, Remus and Tonks, or rather to be specific, they'd invited themselves into his private sitting room and they'd been sharing a quiet drink at the end of the teaching week. He really had tried his best to prevent them from making it a habit. Really, he had. He'd been at his most vitriolic when they'd first started their 'Friday night chat' or whatever they were calling it now. At first he'd been pleased to note that Tonks, as ever, seemed the easiest to rile up, but her husband easily placated her and neither Remus nor Minerva would rise to the occasion no matter how much he baited them.

No matter how hard he tried to repel them, they'd simply refused to leave and when the pain from his Dark Mark had worsened, he'd really been motivated to get rid of them. The last thing he wanted was for them to find out about the curse. But then he'd actually blacked out from the pain and they'd demanded an explanation. Suffice to say, the secret was out.

He'd spent months hiding it from them, months of secretly trying to find a cure only to find one that he couldn't possibly use and to be embarrassed in front of them when he blacked out. He was sure that he had terrible luck.

* * *

Now, he was sitting in Azkaban prison opposite Lucius as they sat on both ends of the small cell. It wasn't exactly spacious, so there wasn't that much distance between them.

"Well," Lucius sighed heavily. "You did say they'd find out eventually," the blonde wizard said.

"You seem very calm about it," his friend remarked.

"What can I do either way?" Lucius shrugged. "Either you've lost your touch for secret keeping or they're very patient detectives," he said.

"No...they're just nosy. They don't know when to leave things alone," Severus replied, "They've not let me have a moment's peace for months. They were never like this before."

"...Hmmm," Lucius hummed after a minute of silent thought.

"Not helpful, Lucius," Severus drawled.

"You seem a little tense, Severus," Lucius retorted.

"Of course I am! You should be too. You have no idea how annoying they can be..."

"Oh, really?" Lucius raised an eyebrow and gestured to his prison chains which still bound his wrists and legs. "Those 'annoying' Gryffindors of yours landed me in here in the first place," he said.

"Even this place is preferable to going back to the castle," the headmaster said.

"I can take your place if you like."

"Nice try."

"A wizard can dream," Lucius shrugged, "Besides...it's not like I want to die. If they can find something to stop this..."

"They won't," Severus said, resolutely.

"Of course they will," Lucius scoffed. "They like you now...despite everything. It's highly unlikely that they'll stand by as this curse kills you...and when you're saved, you can save me."

"Will you never change?"

"Purebloods never change," he replied and Severus looked at him sardonically but he didn't say anything to the contrary. "Normally I'd agree with you about this curse...but...they defeated the Dark Lord...and all of us...I suppose I'd be foolish to dismiss their efforts after that," he added.

"So you'll believe that they can stop the curse but not that I can."

"They're motivated," Lucius explained, "They got you an Order of Merlin for crying out loud. They're not going to let you die now."

Severus sighed and rested his head back against the cold stone wall of the prison cell. "It's not about whether they 'let' it happen or not. I know far more about Dark Magic than they ever will. I've looked into every possible way to counter the curse and I found nothing. Not one thing that's even remotely useful..."

"Well, that's not exactly true, is it?" Lucius remarked.

"That isn't an option, I told you," Severus countered quickly.

"But, Severus..."

"No."

"If you just asked him..."

"No."

"Then we both die...horribly," Lucius said. "If they're as stubborn as you say, then surely they'll come to the same conclusion that using..."

"No," Severus repeated and Lucius groaned.

"By Salazar you're irritating tonight," the pureblood hissed. "The Potter brat won't let you die now. We both know that. And fortunately for us, he's not the brightest wizard in the world. He doesn't need to know the risks..."

"And when the spells kill him, what sort of life do you suppose you'll have? You'll end up back in here with the Dementors in a cell next to me, and it will all have been for nothing."

"If you're worried about loosing your Order of Merlin when the boy dies I'll buy you a new one!"

"I don't care about the bloody award!"

"I'm starting to wonder if you care about anything!" Lucius exclaimed. "You might have resigned yourself to death, but I haven't! I thought I had but...I haven't. I want to see my son again. I miss my wife! And if you won't do it then I will. I'll save us both, Severus. Just get me out of here and I'll do the rest. You can claim ignorance."

"...No."

Lucius sighed and mirrored Severus' own position, leaning back against the wall with his head back as he stared up at the ceiling. "So...we do nothing, then?" he asked, much more calmly, "We just...die."

"I can't work miracles, Lucius," Severus admitted.

"It's not like we haven't killed people before," Lucius said. "What's one more?" he asked, "He dies...or he might die...and we live. I really don't see the problem."

"The problem is that he is the boy who vanquished the Dark Lord. We kill him and the Wizarding world...or, at least Wizarding Britain...will kill us."

"It's worth a try...if you think there's even a possibility..."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you," Severus shook his head.

"If you think you can use Potter's blood..."

"Not **his** blood. The Dark Lord's. Potter's blood was mixed with his own when he was resurrected. It's linked even if one of them is dead. But there's no guarantee it would work. Potter wasn't even born when the Dark Mark was created. It's only been a few years since their blood was mixed, it might not have been enough time for it to have affected the Dark Lord's curse at all."

"I don't care. I say we try."

"No."

"Why the hell not?!"

"No, Lucius," Severus glared at him. "I'll keep looking," he said, "And you'll be the first to know if I find anything."

"What about your Gryffindor helpers?"

"I'm several months ahead of them, research wise. It'll take a while for them to catch up...if they do at all."

"And...if someone happens to visit me...looking for answers..."

"You'll keep quiet," Severus said.

"And if I don't?"

"Then the Dementors will be the least of your worries," he answered, staring at his friend with eyes that had made others flee in terror.

Lucius had seen that look before when they were younger and they'd sent by the Dark Lord to dispose of his enemies. Many muggles and wizards had seen that look as they'd died and he didn't want to be one of them.

"...Fine," Lucius relented. "I know that look. I'll keep quiet...and I suppose, I'll go quietly, too."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"I'm being dramatic?"

"Now you're being pedantic."

"You're the one threatening me, I'd say that's worse."

"Pedantic," Severus reiterated.

"...I don't understand you at all," Lucius admitted, foregoing what had quickly become their habitual banter. "You're in pain, we both are. We're both dying and this is likely the only thing that will save us. You're the one who told me not to give up and now you're the one who's..."

"I haven't..."

"Yes, you have. Why does it matter so much to you if the Potter boy dies? I understand keeping him alive back then because it mattered so much to Dumbledore. I even understand you masquerading as a spy in our ranks..."

"I wasn't 'masquerading'. I was a spy." Severus corrected but Lucius shrugged. Talk of his betrayal never went down well and most of the time now, Lucius acted as though Severus had been true to the Dark Lord all along.

"But why do you care if the boy lives or dies anymore?"

"...You wouldn't understand," Severus replied slowly.

"Try me," Lucius promoted but his friend showed no signs of answering him. Instead, he turned his head away and glared at the wall rather than at Lucius himself. "Fine...keep your secrets," he said, "But that's what I want engraved on my tombstone; Lucius Abraxus Malfoy, killed by Severus' secrets."

"Marble or limestone?"

"Peasant. I want gold," Lucius replied haughtily and his friend scoffed.

* * *

A.N. Okay, I admit that I really had no idea where I was going with the whole Dark Mark curse thing and I probably should have thought about the cure a bit more before I wrote it all. I kinda made it clear enough that Severus and Lucius survive the curse but I had no idea how. Anyway, this is literally the only thing I could come up with as a potential cure. Let me know what you think about it.


	37. 12th September 1998

Lesson Two: Disaster

12th September 1998

* * *

That evening, when Harry entered the headmasters' office for his Occlumency lesson, the first thing he did was hand over the old, battered copy of 'Advanced Potion Making' to Snape. He'd retrieved it only that morning after talking with Ginny and they'd decided that it would be best to return it to its rightful owner.

The headmaster stared at him, curiously and though he did eventually take the book from Harry's hand, he didn't seem to understand. The headmaster seemed intrigued and he stared at the book for a second before turning his attention to Harry.

"Explain," he demanded.

"Well...we...that is, me and Ginny hid it in the Room of Requirement after...well, we hid it...but we figured you should have it back."

"Why?"

"Because it's yours," Harry stated. "It really helped me, I learned a lot from it," he added.

"Perhaps too much," the headmaster replied and Harry sighed.

"It's better than the normal textbooks we use."

"And infinitely more dangerous," Severus said as he placed the book in a drawer of his desk which locked itself, magically.

While Harry couldn't help but agree, he also realised that even as a teenager, Snape probably wouldn't have wanted the book to fall into anyone else's hands so he couldn't help but wonder just how it had come to be left abandoned in a store cupboard in the potions classroom.

"You're thinking far too loudly, Potter," the older wizard sighed.

"...Sorry," Harry said, nervously.

"You should be," Severus stated, cooly, "Since it means that we're about to waste another hour trying to correct that."

* * *

Just as Snape had predicted, the hour passed and Harry had yet the repel the man from a single memory. He thought he'd gotten quite close once but that wasn't nearly enough to impress the headmaster and it wasn't quite enough to impress Harry himself, either.

"No improvement whatsoever," Severus concluded, finally lowering his wand.

"I'm...trying," Harry said, breathlessly, running a hand through his sweat drenched hair. An hour of Occulmecy was worse than a full day of Quidditch practice or weight training. It was exhausting.

"That is the point you seem to be missing. It doesn't matter how much you 'try.' You are not going to succeed. You are not capable of Occlumency and if I am forced to repeat myself one more time, I fear I'll be turning into a broken record," Snape enunciated.

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"The same as everyone else who can't learn it. You accept it."

"Aurors have to know at least..."

"It's not a requirement," Severus interrupted him, "Though it is, of course, advisable."

"And I've got a big enough target on my back as it is. This could help save my life...or other people's lives at some point."

"Then chose a job where lives aren't at risk," the man snapped.

"...Like what?"

"Poster boy?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"No, thanks," Harry replied, priding himself on not loosing his temper.

"I'd imagine it pays well," the man said, thoughtfully.

"Probably," Harry shrugged.

"Then do it."

"I don't care about the money."

"No...I imagine the Potter vault is full enough as it is," Severus taunted.

"I don't care about..."

"Everyone cares about money," the man said, sneering at him.

"Not me."

"Liar."

" **I** don't," Harry snapped back, staring right into the older wizards dark eyes. "I never really had any money when I was at the Dursley's and everything I had there was second hand. I got used to it. I don't need money to be happy."

"Oh, well, **that** is a relief to know that Saint Potter is 'happy' even without his fortune."

"Why do you always have to be so..."

"Yes, Potter?" Severus spoke, calmly raising an eyebrow when Harry trailed off, realising what he'd just said. "What am I?" the headmaster asked.

Harry sighed, his anger fading when he realised just what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He really didn't want to argue with the man but Snape but made it so incredibly easy. In fact, Harry was beginning to wonder if his idea of 'learning Occlumency' was a good idea. Maybe Ron was right and he was barking mad.

"You're...right," Harry sighed, "Maybe I'll never learn Occlumency. But I didn't learn the Patronus charm at first and..."

"This is far more complex than a Patronus."

"But I need this. I **want** to be an Auror and..."

"Not everyone gets the job they 'want'," Severus scoffed. "You think I **wanted** to be a teacher? Most just settle for what they can get."

"I don't know what else there is I can do!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm rubbish at everything else and I never really thought I'd need to plan out a career or anything when I'd probably just end up dead anyway!"

That at least, Severus could relate to, but what he couldn't understand was the boy's relentless drive to learn something which they both knew that he never would.

"Fine," Severus began, "You 'want' to be an Auror...but you don't **want** to learn Occlumency."

"I..."

"I've just spent the better part of an hour inside your head. You cannot lie to me. You find the skill a useful one, interesting even, but you don't care for it. So...tell me why you're here wasting my time before I..."

"I want to learn it!"

"Liar!" Severus hissed, lashing out with his wand and sending Harry hurtling across the room.

"I'm not lying!" Harry shouted back.

"Legillimens!" the headmaster ground out, forcing his way, easily inside Harry's tired and open mind.

Not having looked for the particular reason why Harry wanted to learn Occulemcy before, Severus hadn't seen the particular memory that practically gravitated towards him now.

* * *

Harry was sitting with Remus in front of a fire in the man's office and both looked quite determined.

"You're sure about this?" the werewolf asked him.

"Nope," Harry replied, "But I still have to try."

"He won't go easy on you."

"I know...not really his fault if he doesn't though is it?"

"Harry..."

"I'm a rubbish Occlumens..."

"Most people are. I don't think you understand just how rare the skill is. Luckily, Legillimency is pretty rare too so it doesn't really matter. The chances of meeting a Legillimens are...well, most people never do. I'm not saying it's not a remarkable opportunity, but why do you want to try again? From what I heard, it was a spectacular failure last time."

"It was," Harry scoffed.

"Then why..."

"He lied to Voldemort for years, Moony. I can't even keep the memories of what I had for dinner a secret when he's inside my head. I know I'll never be that good but I just want to know how he did it."

"Severus isn't likely to tell you," Remus said after a moment, "Or anyone for that matter. More importantly, he'll find out why you're..."

"Right...can you...make me forget this conversation."

"Harry...memory charms are complicated things and they can go very wrong. I wouldn't dream of risking the consequences on you...especially for something so trivial."

"But I..."

"No."

"But he'll..."

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you tried to trick a master Legillimens," Remus said, kindly but firmly.

"I'm not really trying to 'trick' him."

"Whatever you want to call it," Remus shrugged.

"You're not going to help me?"

"What can I do?" the man asked, "Maybe if you'd come to me before you asked Severus..."

"He was drinking himself silly! I had to do something! At least now he'll be too busy being angry at me for being too stupid to learn Occlumency than..."

"Harry...it's admirable that you care, really it is. But it's not your responsibility to..."

"He saved my life!" Harry exclaimed and Remus' expression softened.

"Yes, he did, more times than I can count. But this is hardly the best way to try and repay him, is it?"

"The Order of Merlin didn't work."

"You didn't expect it to. None of us did but I'd say he's made it more than clear that he doesn't uphold any kind of Life Debt in this case and it's obvious that he'd rather not discuss it all. I'd say you need to be very careful."

"Understatement of the year."

"I'm serious," Remus said.

"So am I. I know I'm being stupid and I know it'll all probably blow up in my face. I was never good at planning things anyway."

"Well, as a professor I can't condone it...but as your friend...and as someone who's trying his damnedest to be Severus' friend...all I can say is...good luck. And for the love of god, be patient!"

* * *

Harry took a shaky step back when Severus finally withdrew from his mind.

He could say, though he wouldn't be proud to admit, that he'd seen all the different kinds of anger that the headmaster could display. He'd seen the man shouting and hurling things across a classroom in a fit of uncontrollable rage. He'd seen the man all but attack a student with words that hurt worse than any curse. He'd also seen the controlled power behind a spell and the silent anger as well. The silence was the worst kind. It was the one that sent shivers down his spine. The only one he didn't quite know how to deal with.

"...Professor...I..." Harry began, his voice shaking but Severus stopped him simply by staring at him, his dark eyes narrowing, dangerously.

"Out," Severus said quietly, so quietly, in fact, that Harry wasn't quite sure he'd heard him.

"...Wh..."

"Get out!" the man repeated and lashed out with his wand, sending out a crude but effective spell which splintered the coffee table, shattered the chairs, destroyed the bookshelf and tore the drapes down, bringing the panes of glass from the window with it.

It wasn't the fact that Harry had lied about wanting to learn Occlumency that angered Severus. It was the fact that the boy genuinely cared about him. Since he'd laid eye on the child, his aim had been to hate him and to be hated in turn. Otherwise, the plan would have failed. Of course it made it easier that Harry looked like James Potter, and he really did hate James, so it hadn't been very difficult to be cruel.

Harry's memories were always full of emotion which he simply couldn't hide and Severus had seen and felt that emotion very clearly. He'd seen that the younger wizard had been concerned about his drinking and that he genuinely admired him. That wasn't supposed to happen. It was impossible. Perhaps he had been drinking a little too much lately. But if that's what he chose to in his spare time, then why should it bother anyone else? It was nothing to do with them. Furthermore, how could Potter admire him? How could you admire someone you should hate? It didn't make any sense to him at all. And, as usual, when faced with impossible emotion, Severus reacted with anger.

In the face of such anger, Harry had little choice but to leave the room and the door slammed shut behind him magically locking him out of the small study and forcing him back into the main office.

"That didn't sound at all promising, dear boy," Albus remarked rather cheerfully from his portrait above the headmaster's desk.

"I erm...I might've made a mistake," Harry admitted, walking over to the desk.

"Severus will come round," the portrait assured him.

"I doubt it. He was...really angry."

"Yes, but it usually fades...fairly quickly, actually."

"Doesn't seem like it," Harry said, listening to the sounds of crashing and smashing and spells crackling through the door.

"Trust me, Harry. I've seen it all too often, sadly. So, what was it? Did our dear Severus discover that Occlumency really wasn't what you wanted to learn after all?"

"How did you..."

"I may be a portrait, but I'm not stupid," Albus smiled.

"No...you're insane," Phineas Black retorted, "That's worse than stupid."

"I know it was...a bad idea," Harry sighed.

He really hadn't been able to think of anything else at the time though. He needed a way to talk to Severus even if it was all Occlumency based otherwise, the wizard would probably never speak one word to him ever again. After he left Hogwarts, there'd be no reason to see him again and Harry found himself regretting that.

"I'd hoped it'd take a little longer for him to figure it out," Albus replied.

"Me too."

"It seems that we both underestimated him."

"...Yeah," Harry nodded. "And after this...he'll probably have me expelled," he said.

"Oh, hardly that," the old man chuckled and Harry though, maybe he really was insane. Couldn't he hear the wizards' destructive anger that was happening just metres away from them? "Just give him a few days," Albus said, "Then come back."

"...Back...back here?"

"Certainly," he nodded.

"...But...won't he just..."

"Trust me," Albus repeated.


	38. 25th December 1998 Part 1

Christmas

25th December 1998 Part 1

* * *

A select few in the Order of the Phoenix had been told that Severus Snape lived in a muggle house, on a muggle street, in a muggle neighbourhood. But no one really expected it to be the truth. There was nothing muggle about Severus; he was a wizard through and through, or so they thought.

They'd been told that the anti apparition wards around his house were so strong that no one could apparate within a quarter of a mile of the house. So the three wizards had walked through streets of well kept houses with clean windows and green front gardens. But very quickly, the difference in the small town became apparent and Harry couldn't help but frown. It had taken only a matter of minutes to walk from one part of the town to the other but now, they were walking down what was quite possibly the most depressing, desolate street that Harry had ever seen in his entire life. It was raining of course, it always seemed to rain in Cokeworth and it was dark even though it was almost midday so this did nothing for the atmosphere of the place.

Despite the fact that it was Christmas Day, there was little to show for it on Spinner's End. Only one of the old back to back houses they passed had a few pitiful lights strung on the inside of one of the windows and most of the bulbs in it were broken.

Appearance wise, it was the complete opposite of Privet Drive. People here clearly didn't care about the same things; for one, no one had a front garden to impress anyone with and there were very few cars too. On Privet Drive, it was a wordless competition that if you had the best car and the greenest front garden, then you were the better people by far. At least, you'd have thought so from the way Vernon and Petunia acted.

"Watch your step, Harry," Arthur Weasley called out from in front of him.

As they passed down yet another winding, narrow alleyway piled with overfilled rubbish bins and decaying cardboard boxes, Harry almost fell flat on his face but Remus' quick reflexes had saved him from that humiliation. He caught the younger wizard by the arm with his free hand and pulled him back up. The werewolf smiled at him from beneath his muggle umbrella and Harry thanked him.

"Cheery place, isn't it?" Remus remarked.

"Yeah, sure...cheery," Harry muttered back, glancing around again.

"Arthur seems happy enough," the man replied.

He was right of course. The red headed wizard seemed fascinated by everything that he saw. But he did have an unyielding obsession with all things muggle so taking him to a muggle neighbourhood was probably the same as letting a child lose in Honeydukes for the first time.

"Snape won't be when he sees us," Harry grumbled.

"Professor Snape," Remus reminded him with a gentle smile.

"...Right. Why exactly are we doing this again?"

"It was your idea."

"Was not," Harry shot back, childishly and Remus snorted.

"Well, think of it this way then; if we hadn't come willingly, Molly would have lead us all here at wand point and then we'd have probably ended up before the Ministry for risking the exposure of magic."

"When he sees us here, he's not going to be be happy," Harry reiterated. In truth it really had been his idea, but now it seemed as though his Gryffindor courage was faking him as they neared their destination.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Remus replied. "It's just to the left, Arthur," he called out a second later.

"You've erm...you've been here before?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Well, in a manner of speaking," the werewolf answered. "Years ago," he added, but he didn't elaborate.

"This one?" Arthur asked, stopping at one of the houses. It looked the same as all the others, made of dark bricks with an old slate roof and a black door.

"Hmmm," Remus nodded and Arthur knocked on the door.

Harry meanwhile took a deep breath and waited nervously until they saw a shadow move through the frosted glass windows of the door. After what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open to reveal Severus Snape himself. He looked just as he always did, pale, disinterested and perfectly unwelcoming.

What they hadn't known, and had no way of knowing, was that until the second before he'd answered the door, he'd been wearing muggle clothes; specifically, old back jeans and a black jumper. But of course, after sensing that whoever was at the door had magic thanks to his wards, a silent spell had fixed that. No one needed to know that he found muggle clothes perfectly comfortable and acceptable.

"Merry Christmas, Severus," Arthur announced, jovially when the man said nothing and the dark wizard raised an eyebrow at him. "Can we come in...it's a bit wet out here?" he asked.

He seemed to debate the prospect for a minute in his head but then Severus silently turned his back on them, leaving the door open. "I'll take that as a yes," the red head smiled.

Harry shook their drenched umbrellas outside before he left both them and their wet coats by the door. His aunt and uncle had always gotten dangerously angry if he trudged rainwater through the house, after a while it had become a habit and a good thing too he supposed; the last thing he wanted to do was annoy the headmaster his first minute in the house.

They followed Severus through into a small living room with an old wood burning fire, walls lined with books and a dreary looking muggle kitchen through a door to the left. The living room was lit by candlelight and there was a small television set crammed across from the armchair which had stacks of books around it. There were discarded mugs and plates scattered around the chair as well. This was the cosy room of a man who hadn't planned on being disturbed at all.

"What do you want?" the man asked them as he sat down by the fire.

"Can I...erm..." Arthur asked, eyeing one of the chairs. Severus gave him a wordless nod and the red head fell happily into the chair which was far more comfortable than it looked. Remus followed his lead and, nervously, so did Harry. They were glared at, but Severus didn't stop them. "You have a television?" the man exclaimed before he could utter a word of thanks.

Harry looked just as surprised as he did though Remus looked more amused than anything else.

Severus just raised an eyebrow as the red head stared at the muggle device. "It looks like it works but I don't really know how it...Can I use the remoke?" he spoke quickly.

"Yes, of course it works but it helps if it's actually switched on. And the word is 'remote'," the man said.

"Yes...well," Arthur muttered, sheepishly, "Erm...well, erm...anyway, being as it's Christmas and...well...Molly's expecting you for dinner," the man explained.

"...I'm busy," Severus replied, picking up a book from a disorganised pile to his right.

"Oh, come on, it won't be that bad, and you did say you'd be there..."

"I said I might," Severus corrected him.

"Just a few hours," Arthur suggested.

"I...don't celebrate Christmas."

"Maybe now is the perfect time to start."

"No," the headmaster retorted, scribbling something in the book without looking across at them.

"It'd mean a lot to us."

"...Give your wife...my regrets," Severus glared at Arthur. It was clearly a dismissal, but none of them seemed in a hurry to move.

"Well, if you won't come...can we at least wait until the rain goes off a little?" Arthur asked kindly.

"...You could be in for a long wait," the headmaster told them.

"Why's that?" the red head asked, curiously as thunder began to strike outside and shocks of lighting illuminated the room through the old blinds.

"You're a long way from the Burrow," Severus replied once the noise had quietened.

Unlike Albus Dumbledore, Severus detested Christmas time. His predecessor had made it a tradition to remain at the castle to 'celebrate festive cheer' while most other teachers went home. Severus however, chose to hide either in the Hogwarts dungeons, hoping that people forgot about him, or he holed himself away at Spinner's End where certainly no one would ever visit him. Clearly people weren't as afraid of him now as they had been previously.

"Yes," Remus nodded. "We went to Hogwarts first, you know. We were about ready to search the entire castle when Minerva told us you'd be here instead," he said and Severus scowled. "She also said to tell you that your threats have lost their edge," he added, quietly.

The headmaster sank further into his chair, muttering to himself about firing his deputy when he returned to the castle, much to their amusement.

"I shall endeavour to improve then," he grumbled, slowly louder.

"New Years resolution?" Remus inquired and Severus shrugged a little.

"An excellent idea!" Arthur exclaimed, "I always start the new year with one. Last year I said I was going to get a fellytone..."

"A telephone," Harry corrected him, smiling.

"Right, yes," the man nodded, "I actually managed to find one, you know."

"Did you get it to work?" Remus asked.

"...No, it blew up...and from what I understand, it's not meant to do that."

"You blew up a telephone?" the werewolf chuckled.

"Not on purpose...but, yes, I did," the red head answered, sheepishly. "Say, Severus...if we're going to be here for a while...do you mind...letting me try out that remote thing?" he asked, tentatively after a moment.

"Are you planning on blowing it up?" Severus muttered, without looking over at him.

"No, of course not."

"If it ends up like your telephone..."

"It won't. Wizards oath," Arthur said, cheerfully as he all but leapt up to retrieve the remote from a small, cluttered coffee table. "...A remarkable device..." he muttered, turning it over in his hands.

"Do you want me to show you..." Harry began.

"Yes!" the man nodded, sitting back down next to Harry who was half sitting against the arm of the chair he'd vacated and half standing.

"Here, you just need to press..." the young wizard said, pointing to a button on the remote.

* * *

When Severus finally managed to get them out of his house and resume his solitary 'celebrations', Minerva arrived on his doorstep bringing whiskey and yet more Christmas cheer. She too stayed for longer than expected but at least after that, he was left alone for the rest of the day.

That was until six o'clock in the evening when there was another knock at his door. He left them out there in the cold, knocking on the door for longer than was really socially acceptable but they were evidently not taking 'no' for an answer. So he answered it. Eventually.

It was an enthusiastic though exasperated Molly and a sheepish looking Arthur who stepped through into his house.

"Severus..." the red haired matriarch began as he closed the door behind them.

"If you are about to wish me the compliments of the season," he sighed, "I assure you...I've already heard enough 'festive cheer' to last me a lifetime."

"Clearly not. You didn't come to dinner," Molly replied, placing her hands on her hips as she surveyed him.

"I assumed that the Aurors have enough to worry about with all of you under one roof without adding another target," he retorted as he lead the way back through, again, to the living room which only had a few lamps and candles as well as the fire to ward off the dark and the cold.

To allow the Weasley's along with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and Merlin only knows who else, to spend Christmas together, the already hard pressed Auror department had been left with little choice but to post watchers around the building along with some serious magical wards. Even though the last of the escaped Death Eaters had been captured, it still seemed a sensible precaution.

Severus had to hold back a smile as he thought of the exasperated expressions on their faces every time someone had left to visit him.

Clearly, Molly wasn't too worried about the Aurors because she didn't look at all put out by what he'd said. "Rubbish," she shrugged. "Anyway, I managed to save you some food," she said, taking out her wand. She conjured a tray which placed itself on the book ladened table and it suddenly piled itself high with food in a precarious balancing act. "And that's no small feat in a house full of hungry wizards," she remarked.

The tray held a huge plate full of meat and vegetables swimming in gravy, several plates of cake and biscuits, numerous glasses of firewhiskey and a magical Christmas cracker for good measure. "I couldn't just let you go hungry," Molly said to him when the food finally stopped appearing.

"I've already eaten," Severus grumbled.

Molly raised a skeptical eyebrow at the small plate which rested at the foot of the chair by the fire. It looked like the remains of a dish of rice but it must have been left there for several hours and it didn't look at all appetising. Obviously Severus didn't think so either because he hadn't eaten much of it and he vanished the plate along with its contents with a silent wave of his wandless hand.

"Then eat again," she replied. "You don't know just what I had to go through to save you all this. Ron would have scoffed the lot the second I turned my back, you mark my words."

"You should have saved yourself the trouble," Severus retorted.

"That boy eats enough as it is," she shook her head.

Of course the implication it left was that Severus himself, unlike Ronald Weasley, didn't eat enough. And it was a fair assumption. Poppy and Minerva still didn't leave him alone about his eating habits and he'd hoped that by retreating to Spinner's End, he'd have a little peace and quiet, but obviously not. Now it was a tirade of tenacious witches he'd have to put up with. It wasn't as though he didn't eat anything at all. But he couldn't help it if he didn't feel the need to stuff his face with food every five minutes could he?

"Now, at least if you won't eat with us, you can eat here alone in the dark and brood if that's what you want to do," Molly said, quite cheerfully.

"I do not 'brood'."

"Of course not, dear," she replied. "Bring the tray back when you're done," she added as they let themselves out.

Arthur shot him another apologetic smile as he was whisked out by his wife. The man hadn't even managed to say one word and Severus had been railroaded into visiting the Burrow again. Either that or he'd probably be invaded again by Weasley's when they came to retrieve the dinner tray.

* * *

Slytherins were, by no means, cowards, but their bravery was ruled by their intellect; generally speaking, and Severus' intellect was telling him that he was being really rather stupid.

He was standing a short distance away from the Burrow, easily concealed in the shadows, as he watched the people inside through one of the ground floor windows. The room was well lit and the people inside were laughing. The Aurors outside hadn't seen him and that was a rather troublesome thought. If he could slip by them then what else could?

He took a deep breath as though readying himself for battle and he strode towards the door, glaring at it like it had done him some kind of terrible wrong. He knocked on the door and it was answered in an instant.

"Severus!" Molly exclaimed happily, ushering him into the house. "You came. At last. Oh, I knew you would," she declared, leading him over to the fire and conjuring an armchair for him.

There was barely room for it with the multitude of other chairs, sofas, discarded pillows, blankets, plates and mugs which seemed to litter the floor and take up valuable space as well as the piano, but she seemed determined to make room for him. Evidently, so did everyone else as they shuffled their chairs about the place, squeezing in even closer to each other and Molly nudged the extra chair close to the fire.

Glancing around at the others in the room, most of them looked happy to see him, which wasn't something he was used to. Only Ronald Weasley seemed to squirm in his seat as the headmaster sat down.

"Here you are," Molly handed him a sweet smelling mug and a perfectly wrapped present in green and silver.

"What's this?" he asked, taking the mug but not the present. Instead, he stared at it, warily, like he expected it to attack him at any moment.

"I thought you were supposed to be clever," she sighed, "It's a Christmas present...for you," she added when he began to look a little perplexed.

And perplexed he was. People didn't generally go out of their way to give him presents. Albus always had and so had Minerva. So had Lily when they were children but that was it. Students never did, beyond the odd sycophant who wanted a good grade, and certainly no one else ever did.

"Well, open it," the matriarch prompted him, kindly.

It was a book. An antiquated potions book written by one of the eighteenth centuries' most renowned brewers and notoriously difficult to find. It was probably worth a small fortune and considering the fact that the family before him weren't exactly well off, he had to wonder just where it had come from and why on Earth they were giving it to him.

"It was my grandmothers'," Molly explained, "She wasn't really much of a brewer...but she liked to think she was, bless her. I found it a while ago...I couldn't make head or tail of any of it."

"This is worth a considerable amount of money," he said, appraising the leather bound tome.

"I know, Remus told me," she nodded.

"Perhaps you should keep it," Severus remarked, forcing himself to close the book. He had to admit, the mere thought of reading just one page was very tempting and he considered it an impressive achievement when he held it out for her to take back. He didn't consider it an act of pity by any means, but he knew what it was like to have no money and something so valuable, like this book, would have been a lifeline in his youth.

"It's a present," Molly said, rolling her eyes in frustration like he'd said something rather stupid. "From all of us," she added, "And presents can't be returned. That's a rule, you know."

"Is it, indeed?"

"Yes, it is," she nodded, sitting down.

"I wasn't aware that Christmas had rules," he replied, idly flipping the book open on his lap. The pages were worn, dusty and they had hand written notes scrawled all over them, much like his own books.

"There's lots," Ginny spoke up bravely and he raised an eyebrow at her, looking up from the book.

"Ginny, really..." Molly sighed.

"But there is, mum," the young witch protested. "You can't open presents until after dinner. We **have** to listen to Celestina Warbeck..." she said and making almost everyone groan, "We have to..."

"Yes, alright, dear," Molly insisted.

"We don't have to listen to that again, do we?" Ron grimaced, tossing his head back.

"I think it might scare poor Severus off," Arthur smiled at his wife, hoping, like his son, that Molly wouldn't play that same music yet again.

"Ah..." his wife frowned but then suddenly, she smiled again. "Well then I'm sure Severus wouldn't mind playing something for us," she said, optimistically.

The Dark wizard in question all but dropped the book and his jaw at the same time and the brief look of shock that crossed his face was more emotion than he was comfortable expressing before he managed to hide it.

"...I don't know any Christmas songs," he grumbled after a moment.

"Oh, it doesn't matter, dear," Molly smiled, kindly. "Just play anything you like. Anything at all," she said, standing up and all but shoving him, albeit gently, across to the piano still with his new book and mug in hand.

He managed to balance the mug on the piano, probably not a good idea, and he left the book by his side on the stool as he sat down. He stared at the keys for a moment and then at the insistent witch standing beside him.

"What exactly..." he began, exasperated.

"Whatever comes to mind," Molly answered, quickly and he sighed.

"I'm not a juke box," he said.

"A what?" she asked, furrowing her brow and he sighed again.

"Never mind," Severus said, turning back to the piano.

"What's a juke box?" Ron asked Hermione, quietly.

"It plays music," she answered, "Its a muggle device."

"Ohhhhh," Ron stressed the word, "Muggle thing, got it."

Rather than protest, Severus decided to simply play something, maybe then Molly would stop hovering over him, it was unnerving. Having said that, he had no idea what to play. He wasn't usually put on the spot like this to play music for an audience, in fact, it had never happened because no one had known that he'd played the piano before, really. Albus had known and asked occasionally when Severus had seemed to be in a particularly good mood. The old man's portrait still **did** ask him but Severus didn't keep a piano at the castle. Maybe he should.

Without much thought, Severus started playing the last song he'd played for Albus at his house before the war had escalated several years ago; Rainy Days and Mondays by the Carpenters. The old man had quite liked it and had even hummed along to it, albeit badly since he didn't really know the song in the first place. It had been one of those rare occasions that he could remember with a smile even though it was quite a melancholy piece of music. *1

"Rainy days and Mondays?" Remus asked, smiling.

"It's raining," Severus remarked. At some point since he'd arrived at the Burrow, it had started to rain and he could hear it outside as he played.

"So it is," the werewolf said.

"Rainy Days?" Arthur asked him.

"The song, that's what it's called," Remus answered.

"It doesn't sound familiar...but I like it," the red head nodded, decisively. "Course, Severus could probably make even make Celestina's songs sound good on that thing," he muttered and the werewolf chuckled.

"I thought you liked her music," Molly frowned at him.

"Erm...I do, dear, of course I do..." Arthur said, not at all convincingly.

"Mmm-hmmm," she muttered back, sceptically and he coughed lightly as he looked back over at Severus playing the piano.

Once that song was over, he played another and another, and he stayed until about midnight. He only managed to sneak out of he building when both Molly and Arthur were absent from the room and every one else seemed to distracted or tired to notice.

Everyone except Harry for some reason.

* * *

"Mrs. Weasley might come after you, professor," Harry said. He'd followed Severus out of the Burrow and closed the door behind him.

"The four and a half glasses of wine she drank says otherwise," he replied, dryly, turning around to face Harry.

While things weren't as tense as they had been several months ago when, once again, Severus had ended their Occlumency lessons, Harry got the feeling that he still wasn't completely in the clear and had it not been for his Gryffindor courage, he wouldn't stayed in the Burrow rather than follow the headmaster outside.

"...Yeah," Harry scoffed, "Good point."

Severus said nothing else and he didn't intend to stay and talk because in his opinion, he'd been sociable enough today to last him a lifetime. So, he gracefully turbaned his back to Harry and walked off. Maybe it was the fine wine he'd drank or the good food he'd eaten, but Severus didn't feel particularly inclined to argue.

"Good night, professor," Harry called after him but Severus didn't answer.

* * *

When he returned home, Spinner's End seemed even more quiet and isolated than ever before. Against the Burrow, even though it's occupants were emotional Gryffindors, his own home paled in comparison, though he'd never admit it.

Severus set his new book down on a coffee table by the fire in his living room and once the place was illuminated by the candles, he found another present on his favourite chair, wrapped in Slytherin green paper. Two presents in one day was perhaps a new record for him.

Once he opened it he found a soft, wooden jumper inside. It was a Weasley jumper in Dark green and emblazoned with a silver 'S' on the front.

He wasn't quite sure whether he was grateful or embarrassed.

* * *

*1 This is just such a good song on the piano.


	39. 18th June 1999

18th June 1999

The End of an Era

* * *

Harry had just left the Great Hall where students were still enjoying the lavish Leaving Feast before the students were set to return home tomorrow morning. He was using every ounce of Gryffindor courage that he possessed just to keep putting one foot in front of the other as he made his way through the castle.

He was heading for the Headmasters' Office and he wasn't exactly expecting a warm welcome when he got there. Severus had been at the feast but he'd also disappeared after a short space of time and after a while, Harry had decided to follow him. It could be his last chance to see the reclusive wizard again and he had to at least say his goodbyes.

After ascending to the top of the moving spiral staircase, he knocked on the door and was admitted without a word as the door swung open.

"Potter," the headmaster remarked, as always. "Escaping your adoring fans? What will they do without you?" he questioned, sardonically.

After a while, and after many conversations, Harry had learned not to take the headmasters' sarcastic remarks to heart. Oftentimes they were made simply because the man didn't know what else to say and he had to admit, the wizard did have a remarkable sense of humour once you acclimatised to it. Many simply couldn't, like Ron, but then some could, like Harry and Minerva.

"I think they'll manage somehow, sir," he replied, just as seriously.

"How fortunate," Severus scoffed, putting a book back onto its shelf and descending the mezzanine staircase. "I would have thought that the Gryffindor common room would be more interesting to you than my office. I also happen to know that the Weasley boy has smuggled in several barrels of Firewhiskey for the...party."

"...You heard about that?" the younger wizard repressed a smirk.

"Naturally."

"And you didn't confiscate it?"

"...Drunken Gryffindors are even more stupid than sober ones...though admittedly not by much, so I'm expecting an entertaining evening," Severus said. "Do tell your classmates not to disappoint," he added.

"I'll pass on the message," Harry grinned.

"Pomona has a bet with Filius that someone will try and jump into the Lake to say their farewells to the Giant Squid," Albus remarked from his portrait, repressing a smirk. "Personally, I'm rather hoping that doesn't happen," he added.

"Albus, you are a kill joy," Phineas remarked.

"I'm thinking of our dear Severus, here," the old wizard said, "Think of his reputation as headmaster if, on their last night, one of the students was taken by the Squid."

"I dare say the lad would survive," Phineas waved a dismissive hand. "Anyway, let the Squid have its fun. Anyone stupid enough to swim in the Lake deserves whatever they get."

"We are not feeding students to the creature," Dippet objected.

"I'll be feeding it your portraits unless you quiet down," Severus hissed.

"An empty threat," Phineas chuckled. "You can't even take our portraits off these walls let alone throw us in the Lake. We're stuck here just like you are."

"You are not to encourage any Squid diving," Severus ordered Harry.

"No, sir," the younger wizard said, with comical seriousness.

"If it happens, you'll be taking full responsibility," the wizard said.

"...Ermmm..." Harry furrowed his brow.

"A little unfair, that, my boy," Albus muttered to Severus.

"Quiet," Severus scowled back at him.

"The possibility was entertaining while it lasted," Phineas lamented, earning him another dark glare.

"I erm...I wanted to thank you," Harry began a little nervously, "I know I wasn't the...best of students and I'm still not sure I'm doing the right thing but I really don't know what else I could..."

"You chose the Auror Office, I assume," the headmaster replied.

"How'd you know?" the young wizard asked but Severus scoffed quietly. "Right...of course you'd know," Harry smiled.

"Poster boy would have been the easier choice."

"Probably. What about you? Will you stay here?"

"Where else would I go?" Severus shrugged. "In any case, I'm only staying until the repairs are done," he added, quickly.

"...You'd make a good Auror," Harry remarked.

Shocked, Severus stopped shuffling the papers on his desk and stared over at Harry. "I doubt the Aurors have gotten desperate enough, even now, to admit a Death Eater," he replied.

"But..."

"I think someone switched your pumpkin juice for Firewhiskey at the feast, Potter, you're delusional."

"I..."

"Get to your little Gryffindor party," Severus said, "I'd imagine you're the guest of honour."

"...Alright," Harry nodded, giving the man a rueful smile.

"Remember...no Squid diving."

"No, sir," the young wizard chuckled and walked back towards the door.

"...And Potter," Severus called out.

"Sir?" Harry stopped and turned around.

"...Good luck," the man said, meeting Harry's eyes for a split second before lowering them back to the papers on his desk.

"You too," Harry smiled. "Good night, headmaster," he said and made sure to close the door quietly on his way out.

* * *

"Be honest with me, Severus," Albus began a minute or so later. "You are going to miss Harry more than you let on, aren't you?" he asked.

"Don't be absurd," Severus snapped.

"Ah, you forget, I know you, my boy. You'll miss..."

"What's to 'miss'?! The boy causes trouble wherever he goes. He consistently flouts the rules and gets away with it. He's reckless and he has yet to learn to think before he acts," the wizard said, barely stopping for breath.

"And yet...he has a remarkable capacity for understanding and forgiveness."

"That's hardly a consolation."

"I think you've both come a remarkable way from his first year. You hated Harry..."

"I still do. What makes you think that's changed?"

"I'm not deaf. I did hear your conversation," Albus remarked, "It was very civil...quite friendly, I'd say."

"Friendly?" Severus sneered, repeating the word with disdain.

"Yes," the old man nodded.

"There's no need to insult me," the wizard grimaced and Albus chuckled.


	40. 5th February 1999

The Secret's Out

5th February 1999

* * *

The Headmaster of Hogwarts was sipping from a glass of fine whiskey, sitting across from a warm fire in a cosy room with people who weren't exactly the worst company in the world. He'd sat same table as the Dark Lord on more than one occasion so he could handle this, surely.

What he couldn't handle was the searing pain emanating from his Dark Mark.

Pain dulling potions were useless. Drinking Dreamless sleep every night didn't work much because he was so used to it he had a high tolerance to it now and even the whiskey didn't seem to be helping as much as he'd hoped. It would be easy to drink himself into a stupor but then he'd be hungover **and** in pain.

"Severus, have you heard anything I've just said?" Minerva asked and he glanced across at her. "I'll take that as a no," she sighed when he said nothing. "Do tell us if we're boring you," she said a little sarcastically.

"If I did, would you leave?" he retorted, his words sharp as he all but gritted his teeth against the pain.

"...Are you alright?" his deputy asked, concerned when she heard his tone of voice.

"Fine," Severus said, gripping his tumbler with pale fingers.

"You look pale," Remus remarked.

"As opposed to usual," Tonks muttered.

"Perhaps you should get some sleep," Minerva suggested, kindly but Severus let out a barely audible snort. As if he could sleep in this much pain without knocking himself out. "Trouble sleeping?" she asked.

He hadn't left his rooms much in the last week or so and he'd barely slept at all. He'd just hoped that people wouldn't notice. He was always irritable and never really slept much anyway but these people seemed determined to take note of even his micro-expressions now. No one really bothered before, aside from Albus.

"Now that I think about it, you have been a bit more..." Remus trailed off, thinking of the right word.

"Grouchy," his wife suggested and though Remus pursed his lip a little, he didn't correct her.

"Than usual," Remus finished, "I didn't like to ask but..."

"Then don't," Severus snapped, placing his now empty glass tumbler onto a table beside his chair and standing up. Maybe trying to sleep, in vain, in his very comfortable bed, would be better than their inquisition.

However, someone, somewhere was clearly laughing at him and rather than make a dignified exit to his bedroom, his vision started to blur. Not at all convenient when standing up. Before he could stop himself, he'd gripped the armrest on the chair he'd just vacated, leaning over it a little but more than enough for them to notice.

"Too much of the good stuff, headmaster?" Tonks asked, concerned.

"He barely had the one glass," the deputy headmistress said when before she all but leapt out of her own arm chair to gently place a hand on the uneasy wizards' shaking shoulder. "You're shaking," she stated.

"It's nothing," Severus retorted, wincing. He shrugged off her hand but she was just as stubborn as he was and it quickly returned to his shoulder.

"It's clearly not nothing!" she insisted, "What's wrong?"

"Stop fussing," he ordered but she glared at him, unaffected.

"Severus..." she began just a second before he gritted his teeth against the pain.

He clutched at his aching arm without even realising it as everything started to blur away as the agony intensified.

Recognising the action, Minerva scowled and gently, albeit angrily, pulled his left arm towards her and began to prise away the layers of clothes and buttons. Severus' eyes widened as he tried to release his arm from her grasp, but it had little effect. She was as tenacious as ever and she quickly succeeded in freeing his forearm to reveal the incredibly vivid Dark Mark which was coiling and pulsing on his skin.

"I thought you said it was fading! You stupid boy," Minerva hissed at him.

"Damn," Tonks muttered in shock when she saw the Mark. "How..." she trailed off when Remus put his hand on her arm, silently.

She'd had little to do with Severus over the years. She'd known him when she was a student at the school and when she joined the Order but unlike Remus and Minerva, she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to speak to the reticent man. But she had seen the Mark burn on several occasions and she knew, just like they did, that there was nothing they could do except wait until the pain stopped.

"Get Poppy," Minerva told them.

"No!" Severus exclaimed, finally yanking his arm free from her blessedly cool hands which had felt wonderful on his burning skin.

"But..."

"No," he repeated, "She can't...do anything about it."

"But the Mark shouldn't be..."

"But it is...and you know you can't stop it," he ground out.

Minerva sighed, knowing he was right, so all she could do was help him to sit down, even though he did seem as reluctant as ever to accept help.

They didn't know quite what to expect now. Usually, after the Mark burned, Severus would have to return to Voldemort before it would stop but there was no Voldemort to return to anymore. So would it stop at all?

Severus closed his eyes and after a few minutes of sitting in tense silence, he opened them again to find them staring at him with concern etched onto their faces.

"Well?" Minerva promoted him, impatiently.

"Well, what?" he retorted, just as irritably, his voice horse.

"Well, I mean, explain yourself. You told us that the Mark was fading!"

"...I lied," Severus stated, needlessly.

"Clearly," she sighed, shaking her head. She took a moment to pace in front of the fire, angrily huffing to herself while Severus remained stoic where he sat. "Did it fade even a little or has it been this way since...it all...happened?" she asked.

"It...didn't fade," he answered. "But it was a few months before it started to hurt," he added.

"And you didn't think to mention it?"

"There's nothing you, or anyone else could have done...then or now," Severus said.

"Why's that?" Remus asked.

"Because you're not the Dark Lord," the headmaster said in a tone of finality which clearly indicated that he didn't mean to elaborate.

"For goodness sake, Severus!" Minerva exclaimed, turning swiftly and staring right at him, "When I said 'explain' I meant..."

"There's no point in explaining it. You can't..."

"You explain yourself or I swear, I'll hex you into next month!" He raised a challenging eyebrow at her and she retorted by pulling her wand out from her robes and pointing it at him. "I'll do it, Severus," she said.

"I believe you," he replied, "But it doesn't change the fact that..."

"Look," Minerva began, lowering her wand. "I realise it's not easy for you to trust anyone, but please try and understand...we're not here to annoy you. We're here because we care about you but by Merlin you don't make it easy sometimes."

"And...threatening me at wandpoint counts as 'caring' does it?" he asked, dryly.

"Yes, of course it does," she nodded.

"Well, then you should have told me that sooner. We could have saved quite a lot of time," Severus told her.

Minerva threw up her hands and sighed. She then put away her wand and sat in a chair beside him. "Severus...please...what's wrong?" she all but begged.

Faced with such sincerity, which he still didn't understand, Severus wasn't quite sure what to do. It was difficult to get used to people so openly telling him that they cared since he'd gone out of his way to make himself hated for years. Every instinct he had was telling him to just storm out of the room hurling insults as he went just to make sure that they didn't follow him. But he didn't. He told them the truth.

He wasn't quite sure what made him do it either but after Minerva was done with him, the tenacious witch had some choice words for Albus' portrait as well. In the old man's defence, he was now sworn to obey the current headmaster, including keeping secrets if ordered, but that didn't seem to deter her at all.


	41. 15th June 1998

15th June 1998

On Your Own Heads Be It

* * *

Severus was exhausted. Not only was he still recovering from the end of the war, he'd also caught a nasty case of hypothermia almost two weeks ago and he could swear he could still feel the cold down to his bones. He knew that was why there was a fire burning in the grate even though it the weather didn't really necessitate one. Minerva had probably lit it, she had become just as much a mother hen recently as Poppy Pomfrey had always been and he wondered if the two of them had any hobbies other than nursing him anymore. It didn't seem likely.

"I'm sure you're all aware," Severus began, "That I despise staff meetings."

In the last year in which he'd been headmaster, he'd had less then five meetings. In one whole year. He was rather proud of that. No doubt at the time, everyone else had simply been pleased to stay out of his way but now things had to be different. He didn't want a repeat of last year. He didn't want to be the hated headmaster now even though he wasn't sure that it was possible to be anything else. He had to at least try.

"I think we remember, Severus, yes," Minerva scoffed.

"Therefore, I'll be brief," he continued, taking a breath and looking around him.

Since it was a staff meeting, they were all there, each and everyone of them had faced him for a whole year and had believed him to be a traitor. He knew this was not going to be easy. Some of them could even choose to leave after this and he wouldn't blame them. Rolanda Hooch, Filius Flitwick, Hagrid, Irma Pince, Horace Slughorn, Pomona Sprout, Septima Vector, Cuthbert Binns, Poppy Pomfrey, Sybill Trelawney along with Firenze, Argus Filch and of course Minerva McGonagall, were all sat around the room, staring at him silently and he suddenly felt like a nervous, inadequate child again.

What he didn't know, was that during his convalescence, the people in front of him had meetings of their own to discuss just what exactly they should do, and they'd already come to a decision. They couldn't simply leave the school not after everything they'd been through to save it and neither could they leave Severus after everything he'd done.

"...At the present time...I am still the headmaster of this school. No doubt...you're all aware of why I...of why last year had to be so..." he said, for once, struggling to find the right words.

"Secrets never stay secret for long at Hogwarts," Pomona rightly said, saving him the trouble as she looked at him sympathetically.

" **That** motto would be far better than our current one," Irma Prince scoffed.

"Whether you're aware of it all or not...I'm frankly surprised that you all bothered to turn up for this...farcical waste of time," Severus said. "Or even to stay here at all," he added.

"Were we supposed to resign?" Irma asked.

"Most people would," he replied.

"We must have missed the elf delivered memo," she said and he rolled his eyes.

Al things considered, Severus was very surprised. They weren't shouting at him, they weren't hexing him, in fact they all seemed quite calm.

"I was being perfectly serious," he told them. "I expect to be shipped off to Azkaban at any given moment regardless of what Potter told the Ministry. I'm hardly the best choice to stay here as headmaster, I never was."

"Wha' a load of codswallop," Hagrid said, "The Ministry ain't gonna arrest you, Professor."

"That remains to be seen," Severus said, simply.

"An' another thing," Hagrid continued, eagerly, "Yer a good headmaster 'ter boot."

"Yes, I certainly got that impression last year," he scoffed.

"Okay...yer didn't get the job in the...usual way, I mean...but we didn't know 'bout...everything."

"And you can honestly say you don't still despise me for it? The reasons don't change the fact that I killed Albus Dumbledore," Severus said, his voice hoarse. He didn't think he'd ever stop feeling guilty about it either.

"...Yeah...an' he shouldn't'a made you do it," Hagrid said and Severus sighed in frustration. Was a sob story really all it took for them to pity him instead of hate him? Even after everything he'd done.

"Look, we understand," Rolanda said. "You did what you had to do and I don't think I could have done half of it. It's quite likely that we're all alive because of you..."

"Then those who died are because of me too," he retorted.

"People die in war," Binns said, heavily, "It's tragic...but its true."

"It would have been a lot worse if the Carrows had been left in charge...alone," Minerva remarked.

"It was bad enough," Severus said, "They did...enough damage. I couldn't always be there to stop them..."

"We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one, and Voldy's gone mouldy, so now let's have fun!" Peeves sang as he suddenly floated through into the room. He'd been singing the same song for months on end now and everyone was rather sick of it.

"Peeves! You bloody great bastard!" Severus growled at him and the poltergeist visibly shuddered. "Go away!" he ordered.

"...Ooooooh, the wee Death Eater is mad..." the poltergeist taunted, floating upside down and staring at Severus with a grin on his translucent face. "I thought we had a deal, sir," he said, mockingly, "I get to do all the singing I want if I..."

"Shut up!" Severus ordered, but Peeves didn't listen.

"...If I distracted stupid, evil Carrowses. I did that, I did. Peeves distracted evil Carrowses all year when Carrowses were punishing nasty little students so now Peeves can do whatever he wants, he can," he chortled.

Severus shot out a nasty stinging he'd at him but he kept laughing as he fled back through the stone walls. "Bloody menace," he grumbled, putting his wand back up his sleeve.

"Sounds like you made quite a use of that 'menace'," Minerva said.

"I didn't think I'd still be here by the time he upheld his end of the bargain," the headmaster admitted, morbidly.

"Now we have to put up with his singing and Merlin only know what else," Irma sighed. "A small price to pay I suppose," she shrugged.

"You won't be saying that when he destroys your library," Rolanda replied, smirking.

"Let him try," the librarian smiled back.

"Ridiculous," Severus shook his head, getting frustrated again. "The point is; if you want to leave I won't stop you and if you have any...objections...now would be the time to voice them."

"I do have one objection," Flitwick said seriously and waited a moment before he continued. "We don't have to cancel Christmas again, I assume?" he smiled. Last year of course, no one had been in the mood for Christmas and all things considered it hadn't been important.

"This year we should have an extra long Christmas to celebrate," Septima Vector said.

"Now that you mention it," Sybil began, "I did foresee a spectacular celebration..." she trialled off, no doubt imagining all the sherry she'd be able to drink.

"...You're all insane," Severus bemoaned.

"Well, of course we are. We work here," Poppy said.

"Can you just be serious for five seconds?" he asked, resting his head back on his chair in resignation. "If you stay, you know what you're letting yourselves in for?" he asked, "I'm not...Albus. I am not understanding. I'll never be jovial or kind or..."

"Severus, we've worked with you for years before the war...worsened," Pomona began, "And many of us taught you long before that as well. I think we know what you're like."

"But now you know what I'm capable of," he said.

"And why you're capable of it," she said, "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but I for one am willing to try...if you'll let me. Having thought about it...it's quite unforgivable to work with someone for so long and then expect the worst of them without waiting for an explanation."

"You were supposed to believe it and it wasn't all a lie. That's at least part of who I am," Severus told them.

"But not all," Hagrid said and the others seemed to agree with him.

"...Fine," he sighed, "But on your own heads be it."

"Always so dramatic, Severus," Minerva shook her head, smirking.


	42. 14th January 1999

Potions Gone Awry

14th January 1999

* * *

There were several, very good reasons why Severus Snape had been such a harsh task master as a teacher and, granted, not all of them had been professional. One was, of course, was that he simply didn't like children; they were impatient, silly and generally not interested in what he was trying to teach them. Another, was that he wasn't a good man, he didn't even think he was a nice man let alone a decent teacher and it hadn't been his passion for educating the next generation that had driven him to teach. It had been a necessity more than anything else in the grand scheme of things.

Probably the only professional reason, was that he was working with dangerous substances and one wrong move could cause an explosion which could devastate the castle. Students may not have been intelligent enough to fear a potential exploding cauldron, but they certainly feared **him** and it had served him well. In the long list of Potions teachers at the school, he was one of the few able to boast that never before had a student ruined a potion enough to cause a catastrophic explosion.

Until today. The irony being, he wasn't even meant to be teaching Potions anymore.

* * *

It had all started with Horace Slughorn's love of pineapple and his inability to tell a good one from a bad one. He'd eaten something he shouldn't, which was really very embarrassing for a potioneer, and so he was holed up in his rooms, lying motionless in his bed with an much used bucket nearby.

Minerva shook her head at the man and though she was sympathetic, he really should have paused long enough to realise that he'd been about to eat a bad pineapple. Apparently, potions were of no use to him now in his illness and the only solution was to allow nature, however repellant, to take its course. Now she was left with very little time to find a substitute to teach for the day and quite possibly for the week. Cancelling an entire week of classes was simply unthinkable but it didn't seem to bother the headmaster when she told him.

 **"You** teach it," he snapped, "If it's so important."

"It **is** important. We need to show the Ministry that we can cope. If they see one thing go wrong...just one small thing, they'll use it against us and they'll interfere. As for me teaching Potions, I'm hardly qualified, likely the students would know more than me and I have my own classes to contend with."

"Tell the others to pitch in then. I'm sure you'll come up with something," he said, still reading a letter on his desk. He'd barely looked up at her once.

"You could teach...just until Horace is recovered enough to..."

"No."

"But, Severus..."

"No."

"For Merlin's sake, will you at least let me..."

"No," he repeated and she let out a sigh of frustration.

"But you already teach Defence when Remus is..."

"I said, no, Minerva, and I meant it," he said.

* * *

Despite that, about half an hour later, Severus found himself walking the familiar path to the dungeons, his robes as always, billowing out behind his quick strides. The students quickly moved aside for him, clearing a path without him having to say a word. They all looked just as surprised as he felt at his actually leaving his office in broad daylight since it was something he rarely did anymore.

He entered the Potions classroom just as he had done for years before, by slamming the door open noisily and striding in to stand at the front, turning to stare at the shocked students who were blinking at him in confusion. It was a third year class of Slytherins and Gryffindors. Fantastic. Why those two houses were still paired together at potions he'd never know. It was risky and dangerous enough without adding two feuding groups of adolescents.

"Professor Slughorn finds himself incapable of teaching you today, therefore this **enviable** task falls to me," he announced, siting at the desk to glance over the lesson plans.

After a moment, he pointed his wand at the blackboard and in his own handwriting, the words 'The Antidote to Uncommon Poisons' appeared in white chalk.

"What is this antidote intended to cure?" he asked them.

"M...Minor poisons...sir," a slightly shaking hand was raised in the air. It was a young Slytherin.

"Elaborate, Mr. Thomas."

"Erm...doxy bites?"

"Is that an answer or a question?" Severus sighed. "Either way, in essence, you are correct. The Antidote to Uncommon Poisons **will** cure doxy bites along with many other ailments. Your task today is brew it successfully," he said and the ingredients and the recipe appeared on the board. "Begin," he ordered and the scrambled to gather their things without questioning him.

* * *

"You're doing it wrong," a young, arrogant voice said, clearly trying to whisper and failing miserably.

"No, I'm not! Go back to your own table!" another replied and Severus sighed, resting his elbow on the desk. He hated having Gryffindors and Slytherins in the same class. It was always trouble. Why did it have to be the first class of the day?

"You stupid Gryffindors couldn't brew a potion if your lives depended on it!"

"Silence!" he ordered and the voices stopped. "Keep your childish house rivalry out of this classroom and get back to work," he said.

"Yes, sir," students said in unison and for a while all was silent.

* * *

After he'd more or less caught up with Slughorn's rather messy lesson plans, Severus was more or less up to speed with each year group and what they were doing but that was the precise moment that everything went wrong. He'd been looking up from the desk periodically just to check that the students hadn't been doing something stupid and when he looked up this time he saw one of the SLytherins about to trip one of the Gryffindors. Now, this wasn't unusual considering their rivalry, but what made it unfortunate was what the Slytherin was carrying and what lay on the desk in front of her.

"Stop!" he bellowed, pushing his chair back and standing up, but it was too late.

The Gryffindor girl, Aurora Philips had been carrying a bowl of fire seeds but what she clearly hadn't known was that these seeds hadn't been cooled down, also courtesy of the Slytherins, and neither had she noticed that she was about to be tripped up. The seeds fell all over the desk in front of her mixing with the other ingredients and the fires beneath the cauldrons.

Normally this wouldn't have been such a disaster but the precise mix of the ingredients and the fire proved to be nothing short of explosive. The desk itself caught fire and the students reared back in shock. The cauldrons exploded under the intense heat and everything mixed together in their improperly brewed potions to form a kind of thick, viscous substance which began to emit a foul smelling miasma.

The explosion itself really wasn't that bad and the fire couldn't have just been extinguished but for the toxic fumes that it produced which were the real danger. Normally, one would simply vanish the fumes, but these would simply be replaced by more fumes if he did, they were made that quickly. The only thing to do was allow the potion to exhaust its fuel and then vanish it all. But that would take time and its effects were instantaneous.

"Out!" he bellowed and the students scurried to do as he said. "Never mind your books, just go!" he added when some were foolish enough to take the time to pack away their belongings, despite the fact that they were already coughing and hunched over from the fumes.

Casting a shimmering mask around his face, he worked quickly to throw a few ingredients into the bubbling, simmering mess which was growing rapidly on the desk, scorching the old wood as it grew in size. He hoped it would weaken the process. But these fumes were truly volatile and they were even able to pierce through his magical mask in less than a minute.

* * *

At the same time, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Luna were walking towards the dungeons, not knowing what had happened until a flock of younger students came running towards them.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried, "What's going on?"

"He's really mad!" one student said as he ran past them.

"Explosion!" another said.

"He tripped me, I swear it wasn't my fault!" a girl was crying to her friends as she ran.

"Oh bugger," Ron muttered to his friends. "Someone's finally gone and done it. They've blown up the dungeons," he said.

"Come on," Harry said, running towards the dungeons instead of away from them like everyone else around them.

* * *

By the time the got there, the place was deserted and the door was bolted shut but it didn't stop the fumes from escaping, making them cough as they neared it. But before they could foolishly open the door, it was wrenched open and Severus staggered out from behind it with his wand drawn. He was coughing worse than them and his eyes were watering a little as well as he leaned against the wall. He waved his wand in an intricate series of movements and the door shone a bright blue. The fumes slowly dissipated and he'd clearly sealed the room so that more of the gases wouldn't escape.

But the damage to his neck had unfortunately been done by his persistent coughing and his outer robe was smouldering slightly. He leaned back against the wall and fell to his knees, tossing aside his outer robe with great difficulty and with an air of unfortunate habit, he began to slow his breathing. He unbuttoned the top few buttons on his frock coat and loosened his cravat to gently massage the abused skin of his pale neck as his coughing subsided.

"Professor?" Harry asked, daring to take a step towards the wounded Slytherin. Severus reacted immediately, caught in a moment of unguarded weakness, his black eyes turned to glare at them in a mix of anger and confusion.

In the meantime, Luna picked up his robe and a glass vial fell out, she handed the robe to Hermione while she walked over to Severus.

"I think this should help, headmaster," Luna said, her voice soothing and songlike as always. She was standing quite close to him, holding out a vial of purple liquid. "It fell out of your robe," she explained, "From the looks of it, I'd say it's a Soothing Draught for your throat, sir."

He stared at for for a second before he nodded and took the vial from her, uncorking it and swallowing it quickly. "...You didn't...breathe in those...fumes, did you?" he managed to ask them.

"Only a bit," she replied, "In any case, they seem to have gone now."

"Not gone," Severus said, pushing himself upright against the wall. "Contained," he added.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Severus!" Minerva called out, running towards them before he had a chance to say anything. "What on earth happened? There was a veritable stampede through the corridors to get here," she said.

"Bloody students will be the death of me," he grumbled, picking up his robe and brushing it off lightly.

"Someone said something about an explosion," Minerva remarked. "And..of course **you** are all here," she said, glancing at Harry and the others.

"We just got here," Ron said, defensively, "This time it really **was** nothing to do with us, honest, professor."

"Unfortunately, Weasley is right," Severus spoke as though it pained him to admit it and the young man himself looked surprised to hear it as well. "For once," the man added, suppressing a smirk.

"Well, what was it?"

"Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry...as always," he told her, "And spiked Fire Seeds."

"Was there an explosion?"

"A small one."

"And the students?"

"You said yourself...they ran off."

"Are they alright?"

"Fine for now but they won't be when I get my hands on them. Bloody dunderheads."

"And Erin...why is the door is magically sealed?" she asked, glancing at the still glowing door.

From its creation, the Potions classroom had been designed with more protective wards to be able to seal it properly in case of such explosions. Hence why he was able to seal the fumes away now but not when he was inside trying to use a magical mask.

"Toxic fumes," he said.

"...I see," she sighed. "Really...I know the rivalry had gotten worse but...something must be done, Severus. This can't go on."

"What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Speak to the students yourself. You're the headmaster."

"You assume they'll listen to me."

"It's worth a try. We've never had an explosion in the lab before. The odd fight, yes, but it's gotten worse."

She was right of course. Over the last few months it had really come to a head. The Slytherins were isolated from the rest of the school because of what had happened in the war and they naturally defended their own. Including the headmaster. So when a student said something negative about him, a Slytherin would defend him and the rivalry was no longer contained to the Quidditch Pitch. There had already been several fights but this was the first time it had been this disruptive.

"I erm...we tried talking to the Gryffindors..." Harry admitted slowly. "I...we saw things were getting...tense...so we thought it was worth a try. I don't think a lot of them really listened though. They're just...angry..."

"At me. Perfectly understandable," Severus said, tying his cravat again and buttoning up his coat. He took his outer robe from Hermione without a word and pulled it on with Minerva helping him.

"We knew this wasn't going to be easy," she said to him, quietly, brushing off his shoulders.

"We'll discuss this later," he replied, gesturing to the four students still standing within earshot of them.

"Yes, I suppose we will," Minerva sighed. "You're alright?" she asked.

"Fine," he answered simply. "I managed to dilute the explosion, so the fumes should be clear in about twenty minutes," he said.

"While we're waiting you may want to see Poppy..."

"I'm fine," Severus insisted.

"All the same..."

"Stop fussing," he shook his head at her, "I don't need to be smothered."

She sighed but smiled all the same at him. "I'm sorry, Severus. But I worry," she said.

"Don't," he said, turning to walk away. He stopped and looked at the four students for a moment. "Obviously, your class will be delayed," he told them, waving his wand at the door.

A note appeared saying, 'Eighth year class delayed. Return in thirty minutes.'

Then he stalked off down the corridor without staring anything else.

"So...Snape's teaching potions again, is he?" Ron frowned.

* * *

A.N. Thank you to all you wonderful reviewers! I hope you like the new chapter.


	43. 15th January 1999 Part 1

Headmaster Snape Intervenes

15th January 1999 Part 1

* * *

It was generally Severus' prerogative to stay well away from the private lives of the students but seeing as he was headmaster, it was quite unavoidable at times. He couldn't skulk in his rooms forever and ignore the fact that there was a rather large problem that needed to be addressed. Unfortunately this was one of those times. The rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and indeed at times, the other houses as well, had become too disruptive to ignore, especially after the explosion yesterday in Potions and he simply couldn't leave it be any longer.

So, he stood behind the golden podium in the Great Hall, the teachers sat at the high table behind him and all four houses in front of him. Everyone had just finished their breakfast and he'd vanished the remnants with a flick of his wrist and ordered them all to be silent. Naturally, the students complied.

"Since you all seem to be so inept at following simple instructions, I've been forced to make some changes to your classes," Severus began. "The first classes of the day are to be cancelled and you will all return to your common rooms when you're dismissed. Slytherin will, until further notice, no longer take any lessons whatsoever with Gryffindor house. This petty rivalry has gone on for long enough and I will not tolerate it anymore," he said.

Even as he'd been eating his own breakfast only a matter of minutes ago, both houses had been engaged in a contest of 'who could throw the most things onto the other table.' It was ridiculous.

At his announcement, he was met with a sudden, raucous shouting of each house protesting their innocence but he didn't care.

"Silence," he ordered again and again, they did as they were told, eventually. "If you cannot keep your rivalry contained to the Quidditch Pitch, you will be separated like the children you are. Yesterday, because of your foolishness, what remains of the castle could have destroyed even further because you could not act with the intelligence of an amoeba in the Potions lab. I'm sure you're all well aware of what happened. In case you needed reminding, the war is over, now is not the time to start another."

"But they started it..."

"They were the ones who..."

"It's not our fault!" several voices called out bravely, at once but they were quietened with a glare once again.

"I don't care whose 'fault' it was, nor do I care who 'started' it. I am ending it," he snapped. "I didn't survive one war just to be entered into another and neither did you. You should consider that the Ministry was sceptical about keeping the school open before your little stunt yesterday and no doubt they'll hear about this too. You remember what happened the last time they interfered. Don't give them a reason to interfere again," he threatened, hoping that the mere memory of Umbridge and her Educational Decrees was enough to frighten them. "In the meantime, any student, from **any** house, who even thinks about causing trouble from now on, will be expelled," he said, "Is that clear?" he asked.

A murmur of agreement passed through the hall and Severus nodded. "You may go...all except Slytherin house...now," he said and three of the houses scrambled to return back to their common rooms leaving the prefects to lead the way and the teachers reminding behind him.

When they were gone, the Slytherin students shuffled in their seats as they looked at their former head of house in trepidation. "I'm disappointed, in all of you," he told them. "You are supposed to act with dignity and intelligence. Kindly explain to me how antagonising the other houses, however unintelligent they are in comparison, is a wise choice," he said. "That was not meant to be rhetorical," he added when they remained silent.

"Please, professor," one of the prefects began, standing up. "It really wasn't our fault. We didn't mean to start trouble. We knew it wasn't going to be easy coming back after...after everything that happened and they thought badly enough of our house before the war even started. They think we all want to...to...be...you know...like...him..."

"I'm well aware of the prejudice against Slytherin house," Severus replied, "But you cannot encourage them."

"We didn't, sir," the prefect replied, daringly.

"Really?" he asked, sceptically.

"But we can't let them insult us and just do nothing about it," the second prefect said.

"Correct, therefore **I** am doing something about it. We cannot expect them to understand our house, after all, we are more intelligent," he said, smugly and they chuckled. "However, we have made mistakes and because of those mistakes, they can see nothing else. While the Dark Lord may have originated in Slytherin, they forget that Merlin did too. I realise that I'm the last person with any right to lecture you about this, but you've left me no choice.

You cannot be blamed for what happened. Many of you were forced to support the Dark Lord because of your parents and I understand that. If you acted out of fear, I can understand that too, however, if you actively supported him of your own free will, I will warn you now, that those beliefs will not be tolerated here."

"Yes, Professor Snape," the students dutifully nodded.

"If you have any further problems, you will see me. You will not retaliate openly in class and endanger yourselves and this castle."

"Yes, Professor Snape," they repeated.

"In some cases, many of them have a right to be angry, certainly at me and at some of you..."

"Why, sir?" someone asked.

"Because, leaving the castle during the battle was hardly Slytherin houses' finest moment, was it?" he snapped.

"So we were meant to stay and fight? We'd have been killed," one student said.

"Quite right and I'm relieved you didn't fight, enough people died that day without adding to it. You did the sensible thing and you fled, the other houses aren't known for their common sense or their survival instincts but they don't see that. As Slytherins, you were in the definition of a no win situation. If you'd stayed to fight, it's very likely you'd have been assumed to be the Dark Lord's supporters and killed on sight, or targeted by the Death Eaters for **not** supporting them, but because you fled, you're called cowards."

"It's not just **us** they were insulting, sir," the prefect said, nervously.

"Explain."

"They were insulting you, sir," the prefect said. Clearly, despite the fact that he was a 'traitor' the Slytherins, or st least some of them, still respected him. That was a surprise.

"I..." Severus stared at him, shocked for a moment but he quickly recovered. "I don't need to be defended. I've been insulted before and those insults are not likely to stop any time soon," he said.

"But you almost died..."

"That doesn't matter and it won't matter to a lot of people. I could die a thousand times and it wouldn't make any difference. All you're doing, is making life more difficult for yourselves and believe me when I say it's going to be difficult enough as it is."

"Then what are we supposed to do, sir?" the second prefect asked and Severus sighed.

"I see no reason to give you false hope. Nothing I can tell you will make it any better, because it may never improve," he told them. He was well known in Slytherin house for his 'no nonsense' and blunt attitude and most of the time they were thankful for it. It was generally better than age old platitudes that didn't help at all. "I should say, prove that you are better than their expectations, but that isn't easy. So I'll settle for...don't destroy the castle," he said and they scoffed. " **Attempt** to confine your rivalry to Quidditch. I'd hate to see another house win this year considering that you have no reason to lose now...Now go away. Back to your common room," he ordered, dismissively.

After a minute or so of the benches scraping against the stone floor, the Slytherin students were gone, all except one.

"Sir?" a timid voice spoke and Severus spun around so quickly, his robes swirled around him and gathered at his feet.

He stared curiously down at the young Slytherin who had stayed behind after the rest of his house had left the hall. "I believe you were told to return to your common room, Mr. Smith," Severus said.

"Yes, sir...but I..." the boy shifted uneasily on his feet and avoided eye contact. It was the same boy who had tripped the Gryffindor girl yesterday in potions and thereby caused the explosion.

"What?"

"I just wanted to ask...I mean...I can understand why people are so angry...but...some of us didn't even have anything to do with...with You Know Who. Why do they think that..."

"You are in Slytherin, so they assume that you are a certain way."

"But why?"

"Because anger isn't clever," Severus told him, stoically and the boy sighed, heavily.

"...No, sir..."

"You were angry yesterday, weren't you?"

"...Yes...sir...I know I shouldn't have. I know I'd did something stupid..."

"You certainly did and in doing so you earned yourself four months detention...with Filch," Severus said.

"Yes, sir."

"Were the Fire Seeds your doing as well?"

"Sir?"

"They were untreated. The seeds must be treated before they can be used otherwise, the explosion you saw will happen every time."

"I...didn't know that, sir. I just tripped her...I swear, I didn't mean to..."

"I see," Severus said, staring at him with piercing eyes, "So why did you do it?"

"I...I just..." he trailed off, nervously.

"It was never going to be easy for you regardless of the war," Severus said. "You are Muggleborn. Half bloods have a difficult enough time of it in Slytherin let alone a muggle born from the north of England such as yourself," he said, knowingly.

"...H...how do you..."

"Your accent. Where's it from?" Severus asked.

In the last three years, he'd been a little too preoccupied to really take an individual interest in the Slytherins but he could spot a northern accent from miles away. But he also knew that the other students had been rather preoccupied with this one since he was muggleborn.

"Yorkshire...sir," he answered, sheepishly.

"You've already tried to get rid of your accent, haven't you? But badly," he observed. The boy still spoke like he was from the north but it was with an odd southern lilt to certain words and it gave the impression of trying too hard.

"...Erm..."

"Don't bother. It won't make any difference to them now," Severus told him.

He himself had arrived at Hogwarts with an accent and when he was finally taught to speak without it, courtesy of Lucius and Narcissa, everyone already knew he was from the north. All it had proven was that a northerner could speak like a southerner. Instead of applauding him for trying to 'better' himself, they'd used it as something else to mock him with.

"...How...how do you know, sir? I mean...it...it might help..."

"It won't," Severus reiterated. "You won't earn their respect by speaking like them, nor will you get from humiliating another student," he said.

"But other people..."

"Hmmm," Severus hummed, remembering his own youth and how he'd been told daily by his housemates that because he was a poor half blood from the north, he'd never fit in. Over time, he'd earned their grudging respect through his intellect and eventually, his ruthlessness, but it wasn't a path he'd want for any one else.

Severus slowly descended the few steps that separated the teachers' table and the podium from the rest of the hall and the boy blinked at him in shock.

"Do they respect you now, do you think?" Severus asked. Clearly, the boy had humiliated the girl in an attempt to prove his 'Slytherin-ness' to the others. He wanted to fit in and he was angry and confused as to why he didn't.

"...Erm..."

"I think the answer you're looking for is 'no'," Severus said.

"But I don't know what else to do."

"The only thing you **can** do is prove that you are smarter than them."

"I'm...not really that smart, sir," he admitted, quietly.

"The library is that way," Severus gestured minutely with a tilt of his head.

"...The library?" the boy furrowed his brow.

"Where the books are," the headmaster replied, sarcastically.

"...Oh, right...be smarter than them..." the student nodded. "Erm...isn't that gonna be hard?" he asked.

"Probably. So I suggest you get started," Severus shrugged. "Incidentally, your next Potions class will be about the Antidote to Uncommon Poisons again since your last one ended so spectacularly."

It took a moment for the boy to understand but when he did, his eye lit up and he nodded eagerly.

"Yes, sir," he smiled and ran off.

"...No running in the halls, boy, you're in enough trouble as it is!" Severus called after him.

"Sorry, sir!" the boy yelled back.

"You're just a big softie really, aren't you, Severus?" Minerva grinned from behind he goblet.

He turned to glare at her, but of course it had no effect, so he spun round again and stalked away.


	44. 1st August 2018

Melissa Dursley

1st August 2018

* * *

Dudley Dursley and his wife Evelina were just as ordinary as their respective parents, thank you very much. So too was their only child, the now eleven year old Melissa Dursley. Today had been her birthday and the happy young birthday girl had received a considerable number of presents and that night, she and her parents had two rather strange visitors as well.

"Are you...sure?" Dudley solemnly asked his cousin, whom he hadn't actually seen in several years.

They'd never be the best of friends, Harry thought, but they could get along tolerably well. They didn't go out of their way to speak to each other, but they sent Christmas and birthday cards for each others children, though it had taken some years to reach that point.

Harry nodded at him and the muggle sighed. "You had to have seen...odd things happening. Like when I was young," Harry said.

"Well...yeah...but I didn't think..."

"This is...all real..." Evelina scoffed, leaning back on the sofa. Being a muggle with no magic relatives whatsoever, she knew nothing of magic until Harry had explained it all to her. "And you knew it all?" she asked her husband.

"It's not like I could've told you anything. They make you take some kind of..." Dudley furrowed his brow.

"Protection Oath," Harry supplied for him, "It's to protect the children of muggles as much as the parents."

"And anyway, what was I meant to say? By the way, my aunt could do magic and so can my cousin and my parents don't want anything to do with him so..." Dudley rambled, quickly. "I really didn't think Mel would end up being...the same as you..." he muttered.

"Like it or not, the child is a witch," Severus declared, speaking for the first time. "As such, she is entitled to practice magic. It's likely that if you deny her magic, it will become impossible for her to control and anyone in the vicinity could come to harm," he said quite stoically.

"What?!" the mother exclaimed.

"Headmaster," Harry sighed.

"No," Evelina shook her head, almost frantically, "It all sounds too...it doesn't sound real. None of this can be real."

Loosing his patience now, Severus drew his wand from his sleeve and lit the fire without a word, he then began tidying away the presents that had been left scattered about the room from the morning's celebrations and then he vanished the remains of the wrapping paper left on the floor.

"Are you satisfied, Mrs. Dursley?" he asked, putting away his wand which she now eyed with fear and awe.

"Was that really necessary?" Harry grumbled at him.

The stunned woman swallowed nervously and looked to Harry, who at least was friendlier than the man sitting beside him. She'd only met her husband's cousin a handful of times but she'd never understood why her in laws seemed to hate him so much. Perhaps this was the reason. Perhaps they were afraid of his magic.

"...What...what happens now? To Mel, I mean?" Dudley asked.

"Well," Harry began, "I'll tell her what I've just told you and I'll give her her Hogwarts letter. She doesn't have to go if she doesn't want to, but it's best if she does. Then...you'll need to go to Diagon Alley to buy her school things. I can take you...or...or I can have someone else take you if you want."

"What about her schools here?" Evelina asked, quietly, "We had it all planned."

"Not anymore you don't," Severus remarked much to Harry's annoyance.

"But..."

"You'd rather ignore her accidental magic? It'll only get worse as she gets older especially since neither of you can instruct her about it," the headmaster said.

"But she...I don't want her in that..world. What about everything that happened to you? What if that all happens to her?" Dudley asked.

"The war's over," Harry said, "It's been over for years now."

"So...she'll be safe?" his cousin asked.

"I...wish I could promise that, Dudley," Harry replied, "But the Muggle world is dangerous too. At least this way, she'll be able to defend herself if she needs to."

"'Defend herself'?" Evelina repeated. "She's eleven! What do you teach at this school? She doesn't need to 'defend herself'."

"All students learn basic defence magic," Severus told her, "It's common sense."

"But..."

"You're perfectly within your rights to refuse and turn us out of your house," Severus said, quickly, "Just remember that when things get worse."

"Will she erm...you know what happened to Aunt Marge...will that sort of thing..." Dudley stammered, nervously.

"I really hope not," Harry sighed. "I was angry...really angry and I didn't know what I was doing. The Ministry modified her memory so at least she didn't remember anything."

"What happened to your Aunt Marge?" Dudley's wife asked, nervously.

"You're probably better off not knowing," Dudley answered her. "I think...Mel should decide. If she wants to go to...that school, then let her," he said, surprising both Harry and Severus as well as his wife.

"But..."

"It didn't do Harry any harm, did it?" he shrugged. "Mum and dad still think you're some kind of freak," he said to his cousin, "But you're not that bad, y'know."

"Thanks, Dudley," Harry said, genuinely.

"I'll...I'll go get Mel," Dudley said, standing up and heading for his daughters' room.

"I don't like this," Evelina remarked.

" **You** don't have to," Severus replied, simply and once again, Harry sighed.

He could hear the sounds of people descending the stairs now and he knew that he'd have to explain everything again to an eleven year old child who probably wouldn't even recognise him.


	45. 17th June 1998

17th June 1998

Changes at Hogwarts

* * *

Severus was sat behind his office desk with Minerva sitting comfortably in front of him and the ghost of Professor Cuthbert Binns floating beside her. After his first proper staff meeting of the year Severus was coming to terms with the fact that no one had any real objections to him staying at the school so now he could make some much needed changes.

"You wanted to see me, headmaster," the ghost remarked, confused.

"Yes," Severus said, "Its rather important and I can guarantee that you're not going to like a single word of what I have to say."

"Sounds ominous..."

"I'll come straight to the point," the headmaster said. "There needs to be considerable changes to History of Magic. The entire syllabus needs to reorganised, in fact..."

"Headmaster, really..."

"Let me speak first," Severus interrupted him. "It can't have escaped your notice, even when I was a student, that no one pays any attention to what you say in lessons. Very rarely do you remember the names of the students and on many an occasion, they fall asleep in your class and you do nothing. Mainly because you yourself have fallen asleep. You will always have a home at the castle just as the other ghosts do, but if you cannot fulfil your duties as a teacher, I will be forced to find a suitable replacement."

"Harsh words," the ghost sighed.

"But necessary ones. I said nothing last year because I had rather more important things to do and it was better to let the students rest in your class since they got very little rest all year."

"Ah."

"They need to be educated on more than the decedent Goblin rebellions and the Giant wars. They need to understand the far more recent wars, wars that actually concern them so that we don't have a repeat performance. The Salem witch trials would also interest them I think. The MACUSA have a very different way of dealing with things than we do so teach them about that as well."

"American history?!" Binns exclaimed.

"You are allowed to teach another country's history, you know."

"Yes...but..."

"If nothing else, teach them how the first war started with the Dark Lord. If you require an assistant, you can have one. You won't be the only Professor here with help."

"...What if I refuse?"

"I'll find another teacher. Tedious though your lectures are, you are not a stupid man. Surely you see the importance of this," Severus said.

"...Yes...yes I suppose I...I am rather...set in my ways. It happens, you see, to ghosts," Binns admitted.

"If you can rectify this, I have no problems with letting you continue to teach."

"My...lessons have never varied all this time. It will...take some time to create an entirely new syllabus."

"We **have** time and you will have help to do it."

"Thank you, headmaster," the ghost nodded.

* * *

"I shall be sorry to see the end of the Giant war lessons," Albus remarked when the ghost left. "They had become quite legendary in their ability to send even the most stubborn student to sleep," he said.

"You should have intervened decades ago," Severus replied. "If you had, maybe some of my Slytherins would have had more sense to blindly follow a madman they knew nothing about."

"...You are, of course, right, Severus," the old man sighed. "For what it's worth, you have my full support. Is this to be the first of many changes you are to make?" he asked.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Change isn't necessarily a bad thing," Albus smiled at him.

"Then why did you avoid it?"

"I didn't particularly avoid it."

"You were too set in your ways, just like Binns. I won't have another generation of stupid children starting another war. So help me, they **will** know what the last two wars cost and they won't be so eager to fight another."

"An excellent and commendable idea."

"In practice though it may be difficult. Ghosts don't find it easy to change," Minerva said.

"He gets one chance. If he fails, he'll be replaced," Severus shrugged. "I find it deplorable that no one thought to address this sooner," he said.

"Well, this is why the castle is fortunate to have a young man like yourself in charge. You are not afraid to make these changes."

"Hardly young," Severus scoffed.

"You're not even forty, Severus. By muggle standards you're relatively young and by wizarding standards, you're barely in your prime, my boy," Albus replied, his eyes twinkling.

"I've told him that before," Minerva waved a dismissive hand.

"And you're looking better by the day," Albus continued. "You could still stand to put on a little more weight though..."

"That's quite enough on **that** particular subject," Severus snapped. "Surely you have better things to discuss than my age and my appearance," he sighed.

"One day you might listen to us," Minerva muttered, shaking her head at him, fondly.

* * *

A.N. I've only just noticed, we've gone over 100,000 words. Whooh. That's a lot of words. Don't forget to let me know what you thought of the new chapter.


	46. 14th July 2001

The Headmaster Cooks

14th July 2001

* * *

Both Narcissa and Draco were standing at the door to the muggle kitchen staring in the pureblood equivalent of open mouthed shock. It really was a sight that they'd never have thought to see. It was as though someone had used Polyjucice potion and taken the wizards' place. Having only just yesterday been released from their Ministry 'safe house', they'd quickly disovered that living as muggles wasn't going to be easy and that there were many surprises in store, just like this one.

Severus was cooking, using an outdated muggle hob, with no magic at all as he lightly jostled the bacon in the frying pan. Not only that, he was wearing dark jeans, a faded, long sleeved shirt and black socks without shoes.

"Stop staring," Severus sighed, without turning around.

"Well...I'm sorry, Severus but...what on Earth...have you completely taken leave of your senses?" Narcissa demanded.

"Recently?" the wizard replied, stoically.

"Do be serious."

"I'm making breakfast. It's hardly cause for you to doubt my sanity."

"But...you're using muggle...things...and you're wearing..."

"I don't swan around all day in a frock coat here," he rolled his eyes, "There's no point."

"Well, I don't care either way," Draco shrugged after he'd overcome the shock. He walked to stand beside his godfather and peered over the hob at the food. "Is that done yet? It smells great," he remarked, moving to foolishly try and steal the bacon straight from the pan.

"Stupid boy," Severus smacked his hand with the wooden spoon he was holding.

"Ow! Uncle Sev!" the young wizard exclaimed, shocked.

"Go and sit down," Severus ordered him.

"But..."

"Go."

"Hmmm," the boy grimaced and strolled back into the living room, looking every bit like the spoilt child he was.

"You've got a lot to learn about the muggle world...and me...if this is all it takes to shock you," Severus told the witch after a moment.

"I thought Lucius and I did away with your muggle clothes wearing habit a long time ago," she replied. She herself was dressed elaborately and looked very out of place, even if her clothes had seen better days, they were still very fancy and not at all muggle.

"Surprise," Severus shrugged.

"I suppose this place is a bad influence on all our good work," she said.

"If you say so," he replied. He set out three plates and began placing the eggs, bacon, and beans onto them. "I...don't spend that much time here...so there's not much food around. I'll have to show you where the shops are...well, there's only one, really," he told her, handing her a plate as he carried the other two into the living room.

"...A shop? I have to fetch my own food?" she blinked at him.

"Yes," he nodded, giving an eager Draco the delicious smelling English breakfast and the boy began eating with gusto.

"Manners, Draco," Narcissa said automatically.

"The Aurors aren't going to do anything for you," Severus said to her. "They're watching this place and they always will be now, but they aren't getting paid to feed you or clean your clothes, so don't count on them for any help," he said.

"Clean my...I have to do **that** , too?" she fell onto the sofa beside him in shock, still holding her plate of food.

"It's not the end of the world," Severus scoffed.

He supposed he should have been a little more sympathetic, but really the Malfoy's had lived such a sheltered lifestyle. They were spoilt to the point of ridiculousness. He himself had never had anyone do anything for him. Since he'd been a very young child he'd had to clean his own clothes, get his own food and keep the house in some kind of order since his mother wasn't always to be relied on.

"Of course, you're welcome to go back to your Ministry 'safe house' if you'd prefer," he said after a moment.

"No, no, Severus, I..." Narcissa sighed. "It's all...just a shock, that's all. I've never had to even consider...ever...in my entire life," she said.

"I know," he replied, "But I'll help you. I know it's not what you were expecting but I don't have anything better to offer you. For now...this will have to do. In some respects you should consider yourself lucky. When I was younger, we were probably one of the few families who actually had an entire house to themselves. Some houses were divided up by rooms with an entire family in each one and the stove on the landing. Of course, there was probably no bathroom in the houses at the time either, so there was only an outhouse and a tin bath...shared, of course."

"...An...outhouse? And a what bath? And what...a family per room?! In one of these houses?! One **room** each...per **family**? But these houses are so..."

"Small?" he raised an eyebrow. "So what? As long as there was a roof over your head, you generally knew better than to ask for more," he said, "It's quite Victorian, I know."

"...I..." she trailed off, frowning as she finally turned her attention to her breakfast, not knowing what else to say.


	47. 15th January 1999 Part 2

A Visit to Gryffindor Tower

15th January 1999 Part 2

* * *

After more or less storming out of the Great Hall, Severus walked around the castle for about fifteen minutes before he made his way to the Gryffindor common room, mostly on a whim. After all, he'd berated his own house, he couldn't very well let the golden Gryffindors off the hook.

Because he was the headmaster he was admitted to the tower by the Fat Lady and the students seemed to be in an uproar inside. Mostly it sounded like they were bemoaning the fact that he'd blamed them as much as he'd blamed the Slytherins. They'd been expecting special treatment no doubt from Albus' many years of favouritism which still hasn't worn off.

It took a moment, but when he stood directly under the entry arch to the common room, word spread that he was there, a black shadow amidst the red and gold, and all fell silent. Minerva was standing in front of the huge fireplace and she glanced over him.

"Headmaster," she said, "I was just informing the students that any further conflict with Slytherin house will be met with the harshest of punishment."

"Which obviously met with astounding approval," he replied, silkily and she repressed a smirk.

"I have yet to give out their new timetables," Minerva added.

"That can wait," Severus said, walking to stand beside her.

The students looked at him as they always did, with a mix of fear, awe, confusion and in some cases, even hatred. "I've already spoken to the Slytherins, it's only right that I address your house as well...provided that you have no objections," he said.

"None, of course, Severus, go ahead," she replied.

"From what I heard," he began sarcastically, "You have given your overwhelming agreement to put an end to your petty rivalry. I don't care if you're angry at me, but when it comes to other students you are expected to act with a modicum of intelligence. You are not to take this grudge out on them," he said.

"But they're Slytherins!" one student said. Severus couldn't see who it was so they were evidently hiding from him. It was a surprisingly smart move for a Gryffindor.

"Slytherins and Gryffindors'll never get along!" said another.

"You will, or you'll find yourselves expelled very quickly. Unlike my predecessor I will not ignore this conflict nor will I encourage it. I'm not asking for miracles. I hardly expect you to start dancing around the maypole and singing 'Ebony and Ivory' together," he snapped.

Of course, many of the students wouldn't understand his references, but the point was clear enough. "But this rivalry ends now," he added in a tone that left no room for argument. "It's childish, petty and detrimental to your own education. You are students of Godric Gryffindor and though it pains me to admit it, at least the man himself wasn't completely stupid," he said, "So I'm sure you lot can act with at least half a brain."

"Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor hated each other," a student said.

"Perhaps at the end, yes," Severus nodded, "But by all historical accounts, years before Slytherin left the castle they got along rather famously in spite of their differences."

"...Is that true, Professor?" a young girl asked Minerva.

"Quite true," she answered.

"Regardless of that, none of you are not compelled by some kind of...inherited law...to continue their feud," Severus told them.

"But they all practice the Dark Arts!" someone cried.

"And all they care about is blood purity!" another added.

"And none of **you** do?" Severus sneered. "Leaving your ridiculous assumptions aside for a moment, I've heard many a blood insult come from a Gryffindor and many of you take an interest is magic which is, technically, Dark. There are students in Slytherin house who are half blood and even muggleborn just as there are in your own house. Poppy Pomfrey was a Slytherin for crying out loud and she's a Healer! She heals you lot on a daily basis regardless of your house or your beliefs. Not everyone who wears green house colours is destined to be the next Dark Lord but if you drive them to it by your constant attacks, they will be drawn to the Dark Arts if only to get their revenge on you!" *1

At this, they fell silent and they stared at each other in shock and perhaps a little shame as well. There was no objection shouted out now.

"Why don't you think about that for a moment, if you can spare the time...or the brain power," Severus said before he glared at them one last time and left the room.

"Any further questions?" Minerva asked after he was gone and the room was utterly silent. "No? Very well, we'll start with the first year timetables then," she said with a sigh.

* * *

*1. I don't think Poppy was actually a Slytherin. In fact I couldn't find any kind of official reference that she even went to Hogwarts as a student at all, so I took some liberties here. I also kinda made up the fact that Salazar Slutherin and Godric Gryffindor were, at one point, friends. I think it sounds likely that they could have been anyway. I didn't really do any research about it.


	48. 14th September 1998

14th September 1998

An Apology

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was beyond frustrated with the man sitting beside at the high table at breakfast that morning. If ever a man had mastered the art of eating angrily, it was Severus Snape. He managed to give the impression that the food had somehow insulted him. Every time he took a drink out of his goblet, he'd slam it back down on the table. When he went to cut up his food, he'd attack both the food and the plate with such force, she was worried that he'd break through to the table.

She hadn't seen him at all yesterday, neither had anyone else, that wasn't at all unusual but it made her wonder just what had happened to annoy him so much. Though of course, it didn't take a lot to annoy him.

"What on earth is the matter, Severus?" she asked him, quietly.

"Nothing," he muttered back.

To his left, Remus glanced at him with knowing eyes. He knew what had happened. After Harry's disastrous second Occlumency lesson two nights ago, the younger wizard gone to his quarters and told him everything. Remus wasn't surprised that Severus was still frustrated about it.

"The antique plate you're trying to hack to pieces would strongly disagree," she retorted.

He frowned, looked down at his plate and rather reluctantly, he relaxed his grip on the cutlery and set them down gently to then pick up his goblet.

"I know you hate being up this early," she smiled, "But that's no reason to take it out on the crockery."

"Better the crockery than a students' head," he muttered back.

"Oh dear," Minerva said, "Any student in particular?"

"Take a guess," he said and she sighed, her smile fading.

"Am I to assume...that the Occlumency lessons are a disaster again?" she asked, knowingly.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were reading my mind," Severus said, sarcastically. "I shouldn't have bothered in the first place," he grumbled.

"It can't have been that bad, surely."

"Have the wolf tell you," he said, "I'm sure Potter told him all about it. After all, the two of them were in on this together."

"It really wasn't like that, Severus," Remus said, speaking up for the first time. "Harry only wanted to..." he tried to explain.

"I don't want to hear it," Severus said, setting down his now empty goblet and standing up. "I have work to do," he added before he left via the staff door.

"Here we go again," Minerva said, sadly and Remus nodded.

* * *

Harry had watched the teachers table as discretely as he could from the Gryffindor table as he picked idly at his breakfast. Clearly the headmaster was still seething and he didn't know what to about it. Remus hadn't known either. Snape was just such an angry person and his anger was frightening. He didn't want to make the situation worse by charging in like a bull in a muggle china shop but it was what he did best most of the time. It was only because Remus had advised him not to that he hadn't gone back to the Headmasters' office that same night to blurt out a poorly worded apology which probably would have ended in a shouting match.

He sighed again as he chewed on a piece of expertly cooked bacon and by now, Ron was getting annoyed.

"What's with you today, mate?" he demanded, still eating.

"I erm...I might've...made a mistake," Harry admitted, putting down his fork.

"Wha'? Get too much bacon?" Ron asked. "I'll fix tha'," he said, grabbing Harry's plate and sliding over to finish the food.

"Ron," Ginny shook her head and slid the plate back over to her grateful boyfriend.

"Thanks, Gin," he muttered.

"So...the bacon wasn't the mistake?"

"No," he answered.

"Oh...wha' then?"

"Occlumency lessons. I think I screwed up...big time," Harry said.

"Oh, that," Ron said, "Well, I told you it was a stupid idea."

"Yeah, you're right. I guess it was."

"It can't be that bad, Harry," Hermione smiled hopefully at him. "What happened?" she asked.

* * *

"So...what should I do?" he asked them after he'd explained everything. He'd been thinking about it all day yesterday so much so that he hadn't slept, but he still couldn't think of a solution. He hoped they'd be able to help him.

"Work on your shield charms, I'd say," Ron replied, seriously, "He's gonna kill you."

"...Thanks, Ron."

"You could write him a letter," Ginny suggested.

"He'd probably just toss it in the fire," Harry replied.

"And then come and curse you," Ron muttered and his friend scowled at him.

"It's worth a try, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"I guess...but I wouldn't even know what to say. 'I'm sorry' never works with him and I think he's still mad at me...at all of us...for saving his life and I don't understand why," Harry lamented. "It's not like we could just let him die, right? And it's not like I tricked him into trying to learn Occlumency or spied at his memories again. I just wanted to try and get to know him. Is that so bad?"

"Well, tell him that," Ginny replied.

"...Okay," he sighed, "I suppose it's worth a try. I really don't want to spend another miserable year at Hogwarts. But...a letter doesn't really seem like enough, y'know?"

"What else can you do?" Ron asked.

* * *

Harry and his friends spent the better part of the night working on the letter in the common room and he send it to the headmaster via Fawkes, hoping that the man didn't just burn it before he opened it. After all, Snape knew his handwriting. The wizard remembered everyone's handwriting for some reason.

"What's the matter with you, you daft animal?" Severus snapped at Fawkes who was currently flying around his head, trying to get his attention.

The Phoenix let out a trilling chip and landed on the arm rest of the comfortable chair he was sitting in. The bird used its right leg to lower the book he was reading, rather rudely in Severus' opinion, and it held out a letter in its beak for him. He raised an eyebrow at the Phoenix and when he made no move to take the letter, Fawkes simply dropped it onto his lap with a chirp.

Sighing, he wrenched the book from the birds' clawed foot and set it aside to pick up the letter. It was addressed simply to 'Professor Snape' in black ink and he knew precisely who'd written it.

"You're Potter's messenger bird now, are you?" he asked Fawkes who looked quite smug. "What on earth makes you think I'm going to read it?" he demanded while the bird tilted its head at him. "No," he said.

'Chirp,' Fakwes trilled.

"No," Severus repeated, tossing the envelope onto the coffee table.

'Chirp,' the magical Phoenix said again, sweeping up to pick up the letter and depositing it once again on Severus' lap.

"Aren't you supposed to be on **my** side?" he snapped.

'Chirp chirp," Fawkes nodded and he sighed, finally picking up the letter in resignation.

Severus began reading it very reluctantly and then he read it again and then again. After the third time he'd read it, he looked up from the latter and stared at the Phoenix.

"He can't be serious," he remarked, sceptically, but as ever, the bird only chirped at him.

* * *

After much deliberation, Severus sent Fawkes back to Harry with a monosyllabic note in harsh, black handwriting, 'My office. 7pm,' was all he written.

"Good luck, mate," Ron shook his head at his friend, knowing that Harry would go no matter how daft the redhead thought it was.

"Remember, Harry, don't get angry," Hermione reminded him.

"Easier said than done," he replied, ruefully and she couldn't help but sigh in reluctant agreement.

* * *

At seven o'clock precisely, Harry knocked on the door to the headmasters' office and the door swung itself open with a quiet creak of its ancient hinges. He took tentative steps into the room and jolted in surprise when the door slammed shut behind him again.

"Will wonders never cease?" a deep voice drawled suddenly. "You **are** capable of being on time. It's only taken you seven years to learn. I hope you're not expecting house points now," Severus said.

He was sat at his desk, a black quill scratching at a piece of paper which he gently set down and then he over at the young Gryffindor.

"No, sir," Harry replied carefully as Severus continued to stare at him. It was rather unnerving but Harry held his ground. He was a Gryffindor after all. So, using all his Gryffindor courage, be walked over to the desk under the watchful eyes of the previous headmasters, all of whom were watching eagerly, one was even using his antique ear trumpet.

"I'm relieved to hear it," Severus remarked. He seemed quite calm all things considered, but Harry was expecting the man to start shouting at him any second. "Was the letter your idea?" he asked after a moment, "And don't even think about lying to me, Potter."

"No...no, it was Ginny's," Harry admitted and the man let out a quiet, noncommittal scoff.

"Did she write it for you too?"

"No. I wrote it."

"It's an excellent piece of fiction," Severus remarked.

"I meant it, sir, every word."

"I doubt that."

"But I did...I **do** mean it," Harry insisted.

"Don't...lie..to me," Severus sneered at him, hatefully, his anger now visible.

"I'm not lying," the younger wizard reiterated, walking towards, bravely. "Use Legillimency. It's not like like I could stop you...sir," he said.

"You think I would **willingly** spend **more** time inside your juvenile mind..."

"Then how can I convince you that I'm telling the truth?"

"You can't. Because you're lying."

"But I'm not!" Harry sighed, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Is it really so hard for you to believe that I wanted to...try and get to know you...just a little bit before I leave school? It's not like you'll talk to me about anything. I just thought that if it was about work or something then..."

"So you tricked me."

"No!" Harry exclaimed, "I just...here," he exhaled as he gently placed a smallish, leather pouch onto the desk. He waved his wand at it and it trebled in size.

"What...is this?" Severus furrowed his brow, confused.

"It's what's left of the Basilisk skin...from the Chamber of Secrets...and some of the bones, as well. I erm...I didn't know what to get you, really. But I heard this stuff's really valuable...and useful for potions, so I figured..." he shrugged, nervously.

"And why exactly..."

"To say 'thank you'...for everything. I mean, it's hardly enough...You saved my life more times than I can count and I..."

"So you've said."

"I really didn't want to trick you or make you angry or anything like that. I **did** want to learn Occlumency but I know I'll never be any good at it and I'm sorry. I really am."

"Yes...so you said," Severus repeated, still stunned.

"I meant it," Harry said, referring to his letter.

"If it needed repeating, there will be no more lessons."

"No, sir," Harry sighed.

"Consider yourself lucky that I don't give you detention every night for the year."

"Yes, sir."

"No, go away," Severus ordered.

"...Goodnight, sir," Harry sighed before he left, reluctantly.

* * *

When he was gone, Severus opened the bag on his desk and found that the Basilisk skin had been cut cleanly and precisely and the bones were clean, ready to be used in potions. It was a treasure trove worth a small fortune and the boy had simply given it to him.

"It must have taken Harry several hours to harvest that much skin and extract the decent bones," Albus remarked.

"Hours? You're exaggerating, surely," Severus scoffed.

"I don't think so," the old man smiled.

"Don't look so smug," the man shook his head at the portrait.

"Only if you stop looking so confused. Harry wanted to prove that he cares, that's all. There is no ulterior motive for you to be concerned about."

"There's always an ulterior motive."

"Not in this case," Albus told him.

"Especially in this case."

"Ah, Severus," the old man sighed, forlornly.

"Not another word."

"But I..."

"No," Severus glared at him before turning his attention back to the bag. It really was an impressive collection and it was also quite impossible for a Master Potioneer to refuse.

* * *

A.N. I still have plenty more ideas for new chapters, but does anyone have any suggestions?


	49. 20th December 1999

The Dark Lord's Wand

20th December 1999

* * *

"...No," Severus repeated, resting his head back against the pillows on his bed. His eyes were closed and he was shaking. He was as pale as a ghost and he barely had the energy to speak now so his voice was barely audible. If he was this bad, he hated to think how Lucius was coping or even if the man was still alive. Most of the Death Eaters had died from the Dark Mark now.

Minerva released a frustrated sigh as she held his hand with gentle, aged fingers. "Severus, you're dying," she stated.

"Yes," he just about managed to nod.

Around the room, Tonks looked just as frustrated as Minerva did and Poppy Pomfrey was frantically waving her wand over the headmaster, casting healing charms with Filius Flitwick, which were one of few things still keeping him alive.

Harry Potter was left sitting to the side of the room, out of the way feeling very much like a helpless child. He'd been woken in the middle of the night and brought from the Burrow by a nervous and jittery Nymphadora Tonks who'd then brought him to Hogwarts and explained, albeit poorly, that they needed him to save the now dying headmaster.

"Lucius Malfoy won't last much longer," Minerva said.

"...You don't...care about...him," Severus exhaled.

"But you do. He's your friend. You won't be able to help him if you..."

"He knew the...consequences..." the headmaster trailed off.

"Severus!" Minerva declined, shaking his hand. "Severus!" she repeated.

"...Don't...shout..." he muttered, wincing and everyone in the room let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

"There's no other choice," Filius said.

"No," Severus reiterated.

"But Severus..." the Charms professor stressed.

"You...weren't supposed to...find out...about..."

"Well, it took longer than we'd have liked," Minerva said, gently patting his hand, "I'm ashamed it took us so long to..."

"You're not...experts on...Dark Magic...I am."

"And no doubt, you were counting on that," she sighed.

The door to the headmasters' bedroom was suddenly slammed open and everyone jumped, then turned to glare up at a heavily breathing Remus Lupin who now stood in the doorway.

"Sorry," he said quickly, closing the door much more quietly than he'd opened it. The portraits out in the office began shouting questions and protested loudly when the door closed on them again. Since there were no portrait sources in the bedroom, they had no way of knowing just what was going on anymore.

"Did you get it?" Tonks asked her husband, standing up and he nodded.

"Kingsley didn't even ask why I wanted it. All I told him was that it would save Severus' life and he gave it to me," he explained.

He was carrying a leather briefcase which looked innocuous enough, but on closer inspection, it had silver locks and intricate spell designs on it. Remus placed it gently onto a table and began peeling away the spells with his wand pointed at it. After a moment, he then opened it and took out the sinister wand which had once belonged to Lord Voldemort. It had been kept under lock and key at the Ministry, until today.

"You...bloody fool..." Severus hissed at him. He grimaced as he tried to sit up but he had no strength left to even look menacing anymore and he fell back down, weakly.

"We've explained everything to Harry," Remus said, "And he's more than willing to try."

"It will...kill you," Severus said to Harry.

"It might not," Harry replied, speaking for the first time.

"There's very little risk to Harry at all and there's more than a fair chance that it'll save you," the werewolf said.

"But if I don't even try then you'll..." Harry said but stopped when Severus turned away from them.

He was gritting his teeth again and his fingers clutched at the soft bedsheets as painful convulsions racked his already much abused body and left him with even less strength than he'd had before. Although the convulsions didn't last for very long, it was clear that he couldn't take much more. The Dark Mark on his forearm was moving rapidly over his skin, mocking him as much as them every time it inflicted pain.

As it faded, Severus relaxed and his breathing evened out a little bit but Poppy sighed, tiredly.

"There's nothing more we can do," she said, lowering her wand suddenly as Filius did the same.

"Any more Charms will finish him off before you've even had the chance to do anything with that...that wand," Filius explained.

"And he doesn't have the strength the take any more potions, either. One more...attack like that and..." the mediwich trailed off.

"So basically, it's now or never," Tonks remarked.

"...Yes," Poppy nodded.

Harry stood up and took Voldemort's wand from Remus. Immediately, he could feel that the wand hated him. It seemed to emit some kind of energy that simply repelled him and he almost dropped it but seeing Severus dying right in front of him, again, was enough to spur him on. This wand had killed so many innocent people and to hold it disgusted him more than anything. It was even worse than holding a Horcrux and hearing the eerie echo of a torn scrap of Voldemort's soul from within it.

"You understand the risks, Potter?" Minerva asked him, sadly.

She'd asked him that about five times already. She and Remus had been the ones to explain to him, in much more detail than Tonks had, about what he had to do. When he'd been brought to the castle, he'd had no idea that the headmaster was in such a bad way. He'd known about the curse of the Dark Mark but Severus had been so adept at hiding it, that Harry hadn't suspected a thing and it had all come as quite a shock when he'd entered the room after hearing the explanation.

Harry nodded at his former head of house as Severus managed to open his eyes and stared straight at him. The black eyes that stared back had the same resigned look as they had the night in the Shrieking Shack, without even a trace of fear in them. It was both unnerving and distressing at the same time.

"I didn't spend...seven...years...through all your...schemes," Severus began with great effort, "Keeping you...alive...stupid boy...just so you could..."

"Well," Harry took a deep breath. "With all due respect, Professor...I don't think you could stop me right now," he said, gripping the unfamiliar wand.

To his surprise, Severus actually smiled, "Defiant to the...end, Potter," he muttered.

"Gryffindor, sir," Harry shrugged, standing beside the bed now.

"Should I be...concerned?" the older wizard asked him. "This is the...second time...I've been dying...and you were there...both...times. I'm beginning to think...you're bad luck," he said.

"Or maybe I'm good luck," Harry replied.

"That...seems...unlikely," Severus scoffed, his eyes closing again.

"Minerva," Poppy said quietly, her wand which was pointed at Severus was emitting a very pale blue light. Judging from her expression, Harry presumed that it meant something bad. In actual fact, it was a light which was linked to the headmasters' heartbeat which was dangerously slowing down.

"Harry, remember," Remus said, "Whatever happens..."

"I know, I know," Harry replied, "I know the risk and I know I have to stay calm. I'm not backing out."

Without another word, Harry sat down in the bedside chair that Minerva stood up from and then he raised the wand. To his surprise, Severus still had enough strength left to move his branded arm away from him but he couldn't do much of anything else.

"Professor," Harry said to him.

"I said...no," Severus replied.

"Please let me help you," the younger wizard begged, "Enough people have died, I don't want you to..."

"So...what's one...more?"

"I won't let that happen, sir."

"Why?"

"Because you don't deserve to die."

"You...don't know what I deserve."

"You're a good man."

"I'm a Death Eater."

"Not anymore, you're not."

"The Mark...doesn't discriminate."

"Please, professor," Harry begged him again, "Please let me try."

"It won't...work..."

"It will work. It **has** to work," he replied and he reached out for the pale arm. Harry gently turned it over so that the Dark Mark was visible again. The magical brand seemed to hiss and snarl at him as it was revealed.

Whatever protest Severus was about to repeat, he simply didn't have the strength to say it any more and his head lolled back lifelessly against the pillows. His arm was slack against Harry's hand but the Mark was still moving against the pale, almost translucent skin.

"Potter..." Minerva breathed, stepping forwards but Harry wasn't paying attention.

He placed the tip of the wand against the Dark Mark on Severus' arm and began to say the words that Minerva and Remus had recited to him earlier.

According to their research, which they'd kept hidden from the headmaster all year, if Harry said those words and used Voldemort's wand, it should, in theory, remove the Mark. Naturally they'd known that Severus would never have allowed it but as Harry had so rightly said earlier, the man couldn't exactly stop them now. It was Dark Magic. But to defeat Dark Magic, sometimes you had to use Dark Magic. It had only been a few days ago that they'd been able to finalise their improvised spell and Severus had been weakening for about a month now. They'd been keeping it a secret from the rest of school and only the professors knew just how bad the situation had gotten.

What they hadn't known was that Severus had made the same discoveries as they had, only he'd made them long before they did and he'd chosen to ignore them. He'd known that because Voldemort had used Harry's blood to resurrect himself, that the younger wizard would have a chance at tapping into the blood magic that had gone into creating the Dark Mark and could potentially destroy it. But it would be risky and no one could predict what would happen. Even though they'd come to the conclusion that Harry would probably be alright, the odds weren't stacked so well in Severus' favour and it didn't sit well with them that they were risking Harry's safety to save the headmaster. But, when all was said and done, it was Harry's choice and Harry would never let anyone die without trying to save them.

The Dark Mark reacted instantly once Harry had finished the spell and they could hear an eerie voice all around them as a black shadow began to gather around the Mark and the wand. The smoke didn't seem to move far from the Dark Mark but it made the room feel cold and the candles and lamps all went out simultaneously as well.

"Is that...meant to happen?" Tonks asked, quietly.

With the end of the wand still resting against the Mark the voice around them grew louder and it screeched at them in anger. A warped face began to emerge from the smoke but after a moment, and after one final, ear spilling cry, it exploded and left the room in total darkness. They quickly lit the candles again and when the mist cleared they saw, remarkably that the Mark was gone but in its place was a horrific burn. The skin was blackened and charred, dry and peeling off in places and it looked extremely painful.

Harry dropped the wand and it rolled onto the bed, he felt tired and his hands were sore, like they'd been submerged in boiling water for too long but he wasn't visibly burned.

"Harry," Remus ran over to him and gripped his shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah...I'm fine," Harry answered him, rubbing his hands together. "I just...my hands feel...odd...but I'm...I'm fine. How's...did...did it work?" he stammered.

"He's still weak," Poppy observed.

"But the Dark Mark's gone," Tonks added, "Look."

"Yes...and its left a rather nasty magical burn in its wake," the mediwitch shook her head. "And if that gets infected, it could finish the job that the Mark failed to," she said.

"Severus?" Minerva asked when the man winced a little. He'd moved slightly on the bed but he didn't seem at all conscious.

"He won't be awake for a while yet, Minerva," Poppy said, "And that's probably for the best."

"But he'll be alright?" Harry asked.

"Too soon to tell," she answered, casting medical monitoring charms over the sleeping wizard. "Now, all of you, out. The headmaster needs his rest," she ordered, taking charge of the room as though it was her own hospital wing.

"Well done, Harry," Remus smiled at him, "You saved his life."

"He's gonna hate me for it."

"Probably," the man nodded.

"What about...Malfoy?" Harry asked after a moment.

"What about him?" Tonks asked, not taking her eyes off the headmaster.

"Well...since it worked I figured..."

"You want to risk it again?"

"I...we can't just...do nothing, can we?"

"After everything he's done?" Tonks asked him and he nodded slowly.

"If it wasn't for him...we'd never have been able to save Severus," Minerva sighed.

She was right. When they'd been trying to work out a spell, they knew that Severus would never have told them what they needed to know, so, they'd visited the ailing pureblood in Azkaban. It hadn't taken much convincing on their part for him to sing like the proverbial canary. Lucius Malfoy wasn't as resigned to death as Severus was. Of course, he'd only told them on the proviso that after saving Severus, they were then to save **his** life.

"I may not like the man...but we gave our word," Minerva said to Remus.

"Yes," he nodded, "We did."

"He may not even be alive," Poppy said.

"I have to try," Harry shrugged.

"He's still in Azkaban. The Ministry wouldn't take him to St. Mungo's. I'll take you," Remus said. "We'll be back as soon as we can," he added before he and Harry left the room.

* * *

A.N. So, there you have it, that's how they stopped the curse. I know, I know, I should have written it sooner, but it was a really difficult one to finish. There's still a few chapters I can add to this arc, like when the Dark Mark starts to get worse and when Remus and Minerva speak to Lucius in Azkaban, but I wanted to get this out of the way first since you've all been really patient with me on this. And, of course, I appreciate everyone who helped me come up with the solution and everyone who left suggestions. Couldn't have done it without you guys!

Don't forget to let me know what you thought.


	50. 11th April 1999

Wolf on Trial

11th April 1999

* * *

Remus Lupin knew from bitter experience that good things didn't tend to last very long; especially if you were a werewolf. Once the post war dust had begun to settle it would have been foolish to believe that people would simply stop being afraid of them. He expected to be feared. He expected the snide comments and the prejudice. He was used to it all really.

However, he didn't expect to be called before a group of rather biased Ministry officials and made to feel as though his very existence was a mistake. It was a new and entirely new and unwelcome experience for him. In fact, he'd had no warning at all. A letter had arrived for him that very morning, leaving him no choice but to report to the Ministry like a common criminal. Only his wife had known that he'd been summoned and she'd not been allowed to come with him, so he was sat before the sneering faces of dozens of witches and wizards, all alone.

That was until Severus Snape forced his way into the court room. The doors had been flung open with such force that they almost shattered when they hit the walls and three people who'd tried to stop him from entering the room, fell at his his feet when he pushed them aside.

He stepped over them with a sneer of disgust and placed himself between Remus and the Inquisitor at the front podium. The man standing there was wearing ostentatious red robes, he had a receding hairline and very tanned skin.

"Snape," he frowned. "I trust you have a good reason for assaulting my men and forcing your way into a closed Ministry Courtroom," he said, sounding either brave or very foolish.

"Inquisitor Marcus," Severus began, silkily, "I haven't seen you in years. I thought you'd retired...in disgrace."

"The allegations against me were never proven," Inquisitor Jonathan Marcus hissed, suddenly loosing his composure.

"The Ministry must be desperate indeed to need your help," the headmaster retorted.

"I..."

"I'd love nothing better than to...acquaint myself with more of your charming officials and discuss...old times," Severus drawled, watching as the three men picked themselves up off the floor and brushed down their robes. "However, I am here to retrieve my Defence teacher. I'm afraid his presence is required for a rather thrilling lecture with some second year Ravenclaws," he said, silkily.

"Your Defence teacher is on trial."

"On what charges?"

"He is a werewolf employed at a school. We are assessing the risk to..."

"He has been employed at the school since September. You had ample time to question **my** decision in that time. If you have no charges against **my** employee then you have called him here illegally and he is under no obligation to remain."

He was met with stunned silence then and the Inquisitor seemed to falter against this flawless logic. "So, I'll ask you again," Severus continued, "On what charge have you stolen my Defence professor?"

"...The charge of being a dangerous..."

"That is an accusation, not a criminal charge."

"It's enough grounds for us to..."

"To send a letter of caution to his employer, if there is one, under section twelve of the Protection of Witches and Wizards against Infected Magical Creatures Act," Severus said, taking a step towards the pompous Inquisitor who now took a reactive step backwards. "I am his employer. I received no such letter. Furthermore, you are obligated to give, at the very least, two days notice before calling someone to a Ministry hearing, provided that there are no legal charges. And...since there are none...I'm sure, that a law abiding man such as yourself would have sent those letters, wouldn't you? Perhaps...your owl simply lost his way...several times...Inquisitor," he said.

"Now, I..."

"After all...Hogwarts is very difficult to find, isn't it?" Severus sneered at him.

"You..."

"I'm sure you can appreciate that I'm a very busy man," the headmaster continued. "And I've no doubt that you are too. So...why don't I do you the very considerable favour of ridding your courtroom of this...clearly very dangerous werewolf...who, incidentally, is legally registered as such and is provided with the Wolfsbane potion every month which is brewed by a Master Potioneer."

"I..."

"Good day, Inquisitor," Severus glared at him and the man fell silent.

Then, the headmaster turned around, quickly, and gestured with a sharp move of his head, that Remus was to leave via the still open doors at the other end of the room.

"Headmaster Snape, you can't just..." someone called out.

"If you have any charges against either myself or Professor Lupin you are welcome to detain us, naturally...just bear in mind that there will be consequences if your charges are...unreliable," Severus replied, without turning back to face them.

When no one answered him, Severus left the room as dramatically as he'd entered it, his robes billowing behind him and with Remus following close behind him.

As always the corridors of the Ministry were packed full of people but they parted like the Red Sea when Severus began stalking his way through the throng of wizards. They kept their distance without even realising it but it allowed Remus to talk to him without having people bumping into him or having to keep track of his friend through the crowds.

"I can't help thinking there's going to be some trouble over this," Remus remarked when they'd gotten a short distance away.

"Hmmm," Severus scoffed.

"Thank you, Severus," he added, sincerely

"Consider my life debt repaid," the man said much more quietly even though he knew that this alone wasn't enough to repay a life debt. To really a life debt, you needed to save the other persons' life, hence the name. When Remus and Harry had found him collocates by the lake after the battle, they'd saved his life. He'd been too weak to survive outside for long and though he'd come down with a nasty case of hypothermia, he was still alive. *1

"I never held up any kind of debt between us," Remus replied, "I know you don't believe me, but I didn't. I don't. If anything, I owe you far more than I can ever hope to repay."

"...Idiot," Severus grumbled.

"By the way, how did you know I'd been..."

"Your wife. She was...very disruptive. She left me little choice," he answered. "And what on earth were you thinking answering their ridiculous summons like a pathetic little lapdog?" he demanded.

"Didn't she show you the letter they sent? They were all but threatening my wife and son with Azkaban if I didn't go."

"They don't have any grounds to send any of you to prison. You should have ignored them entirely."

"I have to play it by the book even if they don't...because of what I am," Remus said.

"Well, because of what **I** am, **I** don't have to play it by the book...and I don't intend to."

"Yes. You were quite impressive back there. I wouldn't be surprised to hear if that Inquisitor need a new change of robes. I think you frightened the life out of him when you slammed the door open like that," Remus chuckled.

"Probably thought I was his debt collectors," Severus grumbled, ignoring the compliment.

"What?" Remus laughed.

"He's a gambler."

"Really?"

"And not a very good one."

"Well," the werewolf did his best to stop laughing but he failed miserably.

"Last I heard...he'd lost a considerable amount of government money, including the pensions and payroll of his own colleagues as well as his wife's inheritance and her brother's savings. I seem to recall that he's wanted by at least five different creditors...all of whom would pay handsomely for any..."

"Severus..."

"Yes?"

"Is that wise?"

"Probably not," Severus replied, stopping at an empty Floo fireplace. "But you're forgetting one very important thing, Lupin," he said.

"And what's that?"

"Revenge isn't meant to be wise, it's meant to be fun," he replied. "You never used to have a problem with it, did you...Marauder?" he asked, not expecting an answer. He gestured to the fireplace, waiting for Lupin to go first. "My office," he ordered, looking back at the disgruntled Inquisitor Marcus who was now standing a short distance away having managed to catch them up. "And be quick about it," Severus added.

"Severus, I..."

"Go," the headmaster ordered and Remus nodded.

"Headmaster's quarters, Hogwarts," he announced and in a flash of green flames, he was gone.

* * *

Once both of them arrived in the fireplace in Severus' private living room, the headmaster closed the Floo connection in case Marcus chose to follow them and they both went through into the main office. Minerva was waiting with an anxious looking Nymphadora who ran at her husband in relief when she saw him.

"What happened?" she demanded, hugging him.

"Nothing, it was just..."

"A full criminal trial," Severus said, ignoring Remus. "Or at least, an attempt at one. Inquisitor Marcus is back," he told them. "I doubt you've heard the last of this. He values werewolves about as much as he does Death Eaters," he said to Remus.

"I'm used to being persecuted..."

"Not like this," Severus replied.

"They called you to a full criminal trial on the same day? With no charges?" Minerva asked and Remus nodded. "And you went?" she asked, stunned.

"I didn't have a choice. I have to obey the rules even if they don't," he answered.

"Well...what are we meant to do now?" she sighed.

"Hogwarts has a long standing history antagonising the Ministry," Severus said, "And I'd hate to disappoint."

"Severus, the last thing we need is to..."

"I will not kowtow to the Ministry," he told her, sternly.

"I didn't say that," Minerva shook her head.

"I'm with you, headmaster," Tonk grinned, eagerly, "Whatever you need."

"How reassuring," Severus deadpanned and she snorted as an amused Albus Dumbledore stared down at them with twinkling eyes.

* * *

*1 Reference to chapter 6


	51. 12th April 1999

A Life Debt

12th April 1999

* * *

Life Debts were considered a little archaic in the Wizarding World. Generally speaking, if a person saved your life you were extremely grateful and, if the opportunity arose, then you would certainly repay that same person. But most people didn't go out of their way to accumulate good deeds in an attempt at repaying such a debt. It wasn't meant to drive a person to act a certain way, unless that person was Severus Snape.

He'd given Remus Lupin and his wife a job, he'd let their son live in the castle with them, he'd even more recently gone out of his way to butt heads with the Ministry in defence of a man he claimed to hate. And Remus wasn't as happy about it as he perhaps should have been. Most people would have taken advantage if the fact that they had a powerful wizard in their debt, but Remus didn't. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to tell Severus that there **was** no life debt, but so far he'd been unsuccessful.

He was determined to change that now. So, he made his way up to the headmaster's office and found Severus staring into the Pensieve which was resting in its standing stone case.

"Severus?" Remus spoke, walking over to him.

"What?" Severus snapped, still staring into the Pensieve.

"If this is a bad time, I can..."

"Whatever it is, just say it," the headmaster ordered.

"Did you erm...well, I was wondering if Inquisitor Marcus had written to you..."

"On my desk," Severus said. "Take a look," he finally turned around to look at Remus who was picking his way through the jumble of papers. When he found the right one, he picked it up to read it.

It was a short letter stating simply, that Marcus would be pressing charges of assault against Severus for the men he'd forced his way past yesterday and that Remus should be very careful not to infect any of the students with his 'disease.'

"This sounds...fairly serious."

"My criminal record is already as long as the list of Potion accidents that Longbottom has caused in his entire Hogwarts career. What's one more charge?" he asked, slowly and carefully closing the doors on on the Pensieve's elaborate case, shutting away the pale blue light.

"But..."

"Calm down," Severus shook his head, "He won't press charges anyway."

"How do you know for sure?"

"Because if he does, then he'll need to explain why I was barred from entering a sealed courtroom in which one of my own employees was detained illegally...under his orders."

"Ah."

"He's angry and stupid...but he's not quite that stupid."

"So...he can't do anything?"

"Nothing legal."

"But he's...capable of acting...otherwise?"

"Aren't we all?"

"Severus..."

"He's quite capable of taking the law into his own hands like a lot of pompous Ministry officials. But I'd imagine he's on quite a tight leash after all that money he lost. The Ministry doesn't tend to retire its employees unless they have no other choice, so for them to do that and then bring him back...I'd rather like to know why."

"I could...ask around," Remus suggested.

"Discretely...if you can manage that."

"I'll do my best," the werewolf smirked.

"Was that all?" Severus asked.

"Not exactly, no. There was one other thing."

"And what was that?"

Without another word, Remus clasped Severus' right forearm carefully in his own and chose to ignore the headmasters disgruntled look

"I, Remus John Lupin, consider any life debt you believe is owed, to be fulfilled. Nothing you do in the future needs to equal it. Do you understand?" Remus said, calmly.

"...I do," the headmaster answered, still looking confused with an eyebrow raised at him.

Remus nodded, released Severus' arm but he didn't step away. "You squandered a valuable opportunity," Severus remarked after a moment.

"I don't think so."

"You would have taken advantage of it twenty years ago."

"It isn't twenty years ago and I don't want you to feel indebted to me," Remus replied, patiently.

"But it's alright for you to feel indebted to me?" Severus retorted. Remus had made it very clear that he felt that he did owe Severus a lot. It was an endless circle of life debts.

"...Good point," Remus frowned. "Well...then...why don't we start over? Wipe the slate clean? You don't owe me and I don't owe you and anything we do for each other from here is just...a friend helping a friend," he suggested.

"If there's no life debt, what makes you think I even need to keep you here anymore?" Severus asked, choosing to ignore the word 'friend' for the time being.

"So fire me," Remus shrugged.

"Don't tempt me," Severus replied, dryly. "So where exactly did you find that archaic little spell?" he asked, turning away and walking to his desk.

"The Restricted Section. No one really calls in life debts these days and certainly people don't tend to cancel them like that, so it took a while to find it."

"Don't expect anymore favours."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Remus smiled and Severus scoffed. "I'll see you in the morning," he said before he made his way back towards the door. "Oh, and by the way, Minerva managed to get a bottle of Ogden's finest for Friday and Pomona said something about some shortbread...they're your favourite, aren't they? 'Night Severus," he added and then he was gone.

Remus, Minerva and Tonks, and occasionally others, usually came to Severus' quarters on a Friday evening to talk and one of them tended to bring something to drink or to eat. Over the last few months, Severus had found that he really didn't protest about those 'meetings' nearly as much as he used to. He wasn't quite sure when that had changed, or why.


	52. 23rd December 2003 Part 2

First Hours of Freedom

23rd December 2003 Part 2

* * *

Lucius Malfoy, for the first time in years, felt like himself again, minus his magic of course. He was healed and wearing his own clothes and finally free from Azkaban prison. He was sat in front of an ornate stone fireplace which bore the Prince coat of arms and he was happily drinking from a glass of fine scotch as he looked across at Severus who seemed content to simply stare into the flames, drinking from his own glass in silence. But after years in prison, most of it spent alone save for Severus own visits, Lucius found that he didn't much care for silence any longer.

Outside Prince Manor, a considerable number of Aurors patrolled the grounds and neither man sitting there that night wanted to think about that either.

"This is going to take some getting used to," Lucius remarked, finally deciding to break the hated silence. He gestured to the metal band around his wrist with a disdainful sneer. "Do you know...I tired to summon my wand earlier...and I couldn't understand why it wouldn't work," he said. "It gave me a nasty little shock," Lucius added, rubbing that same wrist.

"You were warned," Severus told him.

"I can't change a lifetime of habitual magic in an instant," he protested. In prison it had been different, he'd been, well, a prisoner, but here he was meant to be free. In reality it was a prison by another name for a wizard who was still unable to use his magic.

"You'll have to."

"At least feign sympathy...for once in your life, just a little," Lucius sighed.

"Perhaps later," Severus retorted.

"You're feeling very charitable, clearly," the blonde grumbled.

"You're sitting in **my** house through **my** efforts, drinking **my** scotch and Narcissa is waiting upstairs for you after several years of endless pining...forgive me if I can't muster up any pity for you," Severus scoffed and downed the remainder of his scotch.

"Ah...there's the crux of it," Lucius grinned. " **I** have the beautiful Narcissa waiting for me but for you there's only an empty bedroom. You're lonely aren't you, Severus?" he asked.

"Grow up, Lucius."

"Surely there's no shortage of witches for you. You never had a problem before. You're a war hero with an Order of Merlin. I'd imagine that only helps matters."

"I suggest you stop talking," Severus glared at him but rather than being intimidated, his friend chuckled quietly.

"Fine, fine," Lucius shrugged, "I'm only trying to help."

"Well, don't."

Lucius valiantly stopped laughing and nodded his head in mock seriousness. "Pass the scotch," he said and a moment later, the glass decanter floated over to him steadily without even a word or movement from Severus. He filled up his glass and took a satisfying sip from it. "Ah, wherever did you find this. It's really very good," he remarked.

"The cellar. Apparently my great grandfather hoarded it."

"So there's more?"

"Plenty."

"How much more?"

"Enough that several decades of your famous Malfoy celebrations wouldn't even make a dent."

"Splendid," Lucius smiled, satisfied.

"You're **not** going to spend your days working through my scotch collection," Severus sighed.

"Well, what else can I do? I'm powerless now. I can't do anything. I have no status no money no...nothing."

"Get a hobby."

"Such as?"

"...Stamp collecting?"

"No," Lucius snapped and Severus shrugged.

"You'll have to do something," the headmaster retorted.

"I can't exactly go galavanting off to Paris like Draco now, can I? I can't even leave this house!"

"As I said before, you're welcome to return to Azkaban."

"Is it your mission today to annoy me?"

"I don't think you realise just how fortunate you are. The others who bore the Mark are dead, all of them I should think and before that, they spent years as the play things of the Dementors and the Aurors. You're not only alive, but you're out of prison as well."

"True," Lucius nodded, reluctantly, "But my life will never be what it was."

"Be grateful you still have it," Severus retorted and his friend pursed his lip. "I could have very easily let you rot in there. I didn't have to waste my time and effort on you. You certainly wouldn't have done the same for me," he said, harshly.

"You're right," Lucius sighed. "I've already proven that, haven't I?" he said and he couldn't help but think about all the times he'd left his friend to fend for himself against the Dark Lord, not just the time in the Shrieking Shack.

"Yes, you have. So unless you have something else to say beyond your pathetic whining, you'll shut up and drink your damn scotch."

"...Duly noted," the blonde sighed heavily and leaned back in his arm chair. "I'm not...ungrateful, really, I just..." he began but Severus stopped him.

"I've had two very long years of listening to your equally privileged wife say the same things that you, no doubt, are going to complain about now. I don't want a repeat. If you have problems, speak to Narcissa. She'll never be happy about it, but at least she's come to terms with it all. You've no idea how lucky you've both been in life...but then again, you never did. Did you?"

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Lucius demanded, haughtily.

"Oh, don't act so sanctimonious. You're a spoilt, privileged, self righteous bastard and you know it. You've had a lifetime of simply wanting something and being able to get it in an instant..."

"You've always been jealous of my wealth..."

"Damn right I have. I'd have given my wand arm for a fraction of what you had," Severus glared at him.

"Well, now we're on the subject, my life wasn't always perfect, you know!"

"Huh," Severus scoffed. "Yes. I know. You've told me. Your mother was a hypochondriac who rarely saw anyone and your father was a manipulative egotist and you saw him even less than your mother," he sneered. "What I would have given...for distant parents," he said, ruefully.

"The nannies I had growing up..."

"Oh, please, spare me," he rested his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. "You had nannies...as in plural...and you're complaining about them. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?" he asked.

"I..."

"I'm not getting into this debate," the headmaster sighed, his voice hoarse and rough. "Not again. It was bad enough having to explain it all to your wife. I don't think my patience could survive it a second time. Do you possibly think we could have a conversation...a civilised conversation...like adults?"

"I was having a perfectly..." Lucius protested but stopped when Severus stared at him. "Yes, alright, alright. I'll...I'm...sorry. I may need some time to...adjust. It's been...a long day and your patience is...appreciated," he said, slowly.

"I'll bet that hurt to say," Severus remarked, a little surprised that Lucius had relented so easily.

Lucius gave him a small smile and held up his glass before he drained its expensive contents.

"Do you remember...before the war," the blonde began after a while. "I've been wondering about it for a while, actually, nothing much else to do in prison but remember things and count stones. The Dark Lord...I mean, he wasn't always such a..."

"Manic?" Severus suggested.

"He was so...charismatic. So different. What changed?"

"Don't delude yourself," Severus snapped. "He was always...unhinged. I don't suppose being the victim of a rebounded killing curse addled his mind anymore than it already was."

"Ah...that's where it all went wrong," Lucius lamented.

"It went wrong long before that."

"No, it didn't. We were winning we could have easily taken on the Ministry and won but then he had to go after Potter and...that boy...it ruined everything."

"That 'boy' saved your life," Severus raised an eyebrow.

"To lord it over me at some point in the near future, no doubt," Lucius hissed.

"If you say so."

"You still think I'm a fool for thinking that we were on the right side, don't you?" the blonde asked him, "I can't change my way of thinking now. I'm too old."

"I don't expect you to change and I'm not optimistic enough to believe that a second prison sentence was enough to convince you otherwise. But if it's going to be a problem between us..."

"Merlin, no," Lucius shook his head, quickly. "I shouldn't have mentioned it, I know. I just...I didn't have anyone else to talk to about it and I just wanted to know why it all...why **he** changed so...dramatically. It wasn't fear that drew us to him in the first place but...it was fear that kept us there in the end. In spite of everything...I can't help but hate him even though I once looked up to him. You did too. That's why he marked us."

"The Mark is gone," Severus reminded him.

"Not exactly," Lucius said, gently rubbing a hand over his forearm where the blackened burn was hidden by his sleeve. When the Dark Mark had been removed by Harry it had left an identical burn scar on Lucius' arm as it had on Severus' and they would likely never heal.

"...No...and I know what you meant...about the Dark Lord. He did...change over time. I suppose it was the consequences of what he'd become and a...a side effect of his resurrection. He **was**...charismatic. He **was** a great leader. He inspired people to follow him in the early days and then he resorted to intimidation."

"I don't know how to live in a world that we were trying to destroy," Lucius confessed, "You make it look so easy."

"Easy? I still get letters laced with poisons and howlers telling me that Death Eaters deserve to die. There's an ongoing petition to have me removed from Hogwarts and for my Order of Merlin to be burned. There's still plenty of people who'd be delighted to see me behind bars, believe me."

"Maybe. But at least you can say that you were...a spy. You defied him."

"You left him too, in the end," Severus remarked.

"Out of fear," the blonde muttered, remembering the Battle of Hogwarts and how he had fled with his family. "When it was clear that we were loosing," he added.

"Yes, but you did it."

"If he appeared right now I can't say I wouldn't do as he asked."

"Because you want to or because you're afraid of him?"

"I...don't know."

"You've plenty of time to think about the answer," Severus replied.

"I suppose I do but that's not much of a hobby, is it?"

"I think I saw some golf equipment in the attic."

"No," Lucius sighed.

"Go upstairs to your wife," Severus said, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "Your little moral quandary and hobby hunting will still be there for you to pick at in the morning," he added.

"And the Aurors will still be outside, too," Lucius retorted.

"Yes, they will."

"That's just...brilliant."

"Isn't it just?" Severus gave him a sarcastic smirk.

"I hate Aurors," Lucius grumbled.

"And they hate us. We're a match made in heaven."

"Huh, if that's heaven, you can keep it," the blonde snorted, inelgantly. "I'll stick with this excellent scotch and my lovely wife," he said, setting down his now empty glass and standing up. "Have your house elf send us a wake up call in the morning for breakfast, would you? Some time after nine o'clock, perhaps," he added haughtily.

"This isn't a hotel," Severus told him but Lucius was already walking away.

The blonde raised a hand either in dismissal or acknowledgement, Severus wasn't quite sure which, but Lucius didn't turn around. His friend wasn't at all surprised. He had a feeling that learning to survive without magic was going to a lot harder for Lucius than it had been for Narcissa and the thought filled him with horror and very small trace of amusement. Lucius always did act like he was king of the world, if nothing else it was going to be entertaining as he discovered his new limitations.


	53. 24th March 2004

Augustus Granville's Publishing Debut

24th March 2004

* * *

"Augustus Granville?" Arthur stared at the name printed on the books.

"I didn't chose it," the headmaster sighed, "I told the publisher to use a pseudonym...clearly I took it for granted that they'd choose a decent one. By the time they told me what they'd settled on, it was too late to change it."

"I don't think it's a bad name," Molly said. She was flicking through another of the books with interest.

There were three textbooks in total, all of them updated versions of old and trusted books. Updating textbooks was a tricky business in the Wizarding World. Their society was generally resistant to change and most school books hadn't been updated for decades or even centuries.

Severus had written his own notes into the existing books and sent them to a publisher on Lucius' advice. Fortunately the publisher was an old friend of the wizards' otherwise they probably wouldn't have given him, an ex Death Eater, a second glance. Now, there was ' _New and Improved Advanced Potion Making_ ,' ' _Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts for Beginners_ ,' and ' _Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts.'_ Why exactly Lucius Malfoy was on a first name basis with a publisher, Severus didn't know, and he didn't really want to know either.

For some reason, Molly and Arthur had been delighted when they'd heard about the books and they were overjoyed that they were now in possession of some advanced copies. The books were due to be released to the public in a few days and the marketing campaign had been nothing short of phenomenal. It wasn't often that books were updated after all.

"I could hardly publish them under my own name," Severus added.

"I don't see why not," Arthur shrugged.

"Well, I'm not expecting to become an overnight success, but I would like to sell them." Severus said, dryly.

"You'll sell them," Molly assured him, confidently.

"So my publisher assures me," the headmaster said.

"What made you change your mind about all this?" Arthur asked, curiously. "You didn't seem all that keen to publish a book, let alone three," he said, and he was right.

Harry had once suggested, several years ago, that Severus should publish his notes for the ' _Advanced Potion Making_ ,' though of course without some of the more sinister spells he'd written in his own copy. But at the time he'd been very reluctant. Now he seemed to have relented without much resistance. Over the last few years Severus had made some considerable changes to how things were run at Hogwarts, shocking some and delighting others. It looks like he'd turned his attention to the outdated textbooks as well now.

"Lucius...convinced me otherwise," Severus admitted.

"Oh?" Arthur blinked.

The Malfoy's and the Weasley's would never be the best of friends but they could just about sit in a room together without a feud erupting. They did it for Severus' sake if nothing else since he was their mutual friend but it was probably for the best all around if they kept as far from each other as possible.

"Apparently it'll make my fortune," Severus scoffed. "He's got nothing better to do than meddle in my affairs," he explained.

"Well, in this case, I have to agree with him," Arthur replied. "It's a good idea," he said.

"You're not charging a lot of money for them," Molly observed.

"I'd I did, I'd price myself out of the market," Severus said, smoothly.

The truth was, he didn't want less fortunate families to feel that they had to scrape together enough money in order to buy new textbooks for their children. He knew how difficult it had been as a child with little money having to buy a different set of books each year. It was easy enough when they were second hand but when they were new it was much more difficult. So he'd persuaded the publisher to make the books cheap. It wasn't like he really needed the money; he'd inherited a little along with Prince Manor and his Hogwarts salary was more than sufficient for his needs anyway.

"I'll bet that went down well with Malfoy senior," Arthur said and Severus scoffed.

"It comes from having been spoilt all his life. All my efforts to teach him the value of money seem to fall on deaf ears," the headmaster replied.

"You can use this one for your presentation to the Potion Masters Conference," Molly remarked, holding up the Potions textbook. "I bet you'd win. Where is it this year?" she asked.

"Venice," Severus answered.

"Lovely," she smiled, "I've always wanted to go to Venice."

"As I said last year," the headmaster said, exasperated, "You're welcome to come. Although I really don't see why you're so interested."

Molly and Arthur had expressed an interest in attending the Conference last year and the year before that. The Potions Masters **were** allowed to bring guests but Severus didn't see why why they'd be interested at all. They weren't exactly subtle about wanting to go with him though. As his friends, they were naturally curious about how he acted in a professional setting and a small holiday wouldn't go amiss either.

"I really don't..."

"We'd be delighted, Severus," Arthur said quickly before his wife could turn down another Conference. "And when you win, I'll open a bottle of Champagne. I found an excellent muggle brand a few years ago," he grinned, excitedly.

"You **are** aware that if I use the book publicly at the Conference, the fact that I used a pseudonym will have been a waste of time," Severus remarked.

"Surely...just to a few people there, it won't make a difference," Molly replied.

"And when they tell others?"

"Aren't they supposed to keep the presentations secret? Confidentiality and all that?"

"Like secrets at Hogwarts?" Severus said.

"Ah...yes, good point," she said, "It's a shame though."

"What are you going to present instead, then?" Arthur asked.

"The Wolfsbane improvements," Severus answered and they nodded. He'd improved it to the point of a mostly painless transformation now.

"Good choice," the red headed wizard nodded, "That'll be hard to beat."

"Let's hope so," the headmaster said.

"Remus is coming then? Since he was the..." Molly trailed off.

"Test subject?" Severus smirked a little. "I'm not running a holiday tour, Molly," he said.

"I never said you were," she replied, smiling fondly at him. Molly took great pride in the fact that she, along with her husband, were some of the few people that Severus actually called by their first name now, although it had taken a lot of gentle persuading to get to that point.

"I have to get back to the Manor," Severus said, "Malfoys' are easily bored easily and the last time they got bored, my unsuspecting library paid the price."

"Your library?" Arthur furrowed his brow.

"Don't ask,"'the headmaster sighed, standing up. He generally spent the weekends at Prince Manor trying to stop Lucius from destroying something else in his boredom or his frustration.

"Alright, dear," Molly said, shaking her head. "Good luck then," she added and then he was gone.


	54. 16th March 2007

Real Enough

16th March 2007

* * *

Firenze the Centaur still taught at Hogwarts alongside Sybil Trelawney and one evening after a rather remarkable discovery in the forest, which incidentally had interrupted his very important star gazing task, he made his way to the headmasters' office. What he hasn't realised was that Severus wasn't alone. He was in his private sitting room with Minerva, Remus, Harry, Pomona and Poppy.

"Firenze?" Harry looked over at him.

"Hello, Harry," the centaur smiled kindly at him before turning to Severus. "I was wondering if I might...have a word, headmaster," he said.

"Weren't you star gazing, tonight?" Severus asked.

Firenze had been talking almost non stop about his star tracking to everyone in the staff room and even to his students for weeks now and Severus had taken to simply rolling his eyes and drowning out the conversation whenever he was in the vicinity. Whatever was written in the stars didn't interest him at all. He'd made that perfectly clear.

"I was, yes, but...I...well, it's best if I show you...unless you are busy."

"Do we look busy?" the wizard scoffed, gesturing to his glass tumbler.

"Come in, come in," Pomona ushered him into the room. "The more the merrier," she said, happily.

"Ah, thank you, no," Firenze politely declined the glass that the enthusiastic witch held out for him. "I cannot stay. I must return to the forest. I am tracking the the alignment of the..."

"I hope you didn't come here to tell me about the ever so fascinating arrangement of the stars...again," Severus remarked, uninterested. Not even Minerva and Poppy's scowls could stop him from being, what most people considered, rude.

"No, no, I didn't," the centaur chuckled. "I know a lost cause when I see one. It's just that, well...I found something. Since it was on school grounds I decided that it would be best to come straight to you about it," he said.

"What did you find?" Severus asked.

"This," Firenze stepped towards him and held out the innocuous looking, but extremely powerful Resurrection Stone. "I know it's significance and I can sense its power," he said, "It would not be wise to leave it in the forest."

"The Resurrection Stone," Harry breathed, "I thought it was...lost."

"No longer," Firenze said.

"Did you...use it?" Harry asked him.

"I did not," he answered, solemnly. "For a moment I was tempted as I too have lost loved ones...but the price is too high. It is...a torment," he said and Harry nodded in understanding.

To be able to see your loved ones but not actually have them back with you was just as cruel as the Mirror of Erised; it showed you something that you could never have.

"I suppose...the only question is," Minerva began, nervously. "What do we do with it?" she asked. She, like the others, had heard from Harry just what the stone could do and she was very tempted to use it, as anyone would be and if given the chance she wasn't sure that she would be able to show the same restraint as Firenze.

Severus took the stone and examined it with a critical eye. Although he knew that it didn't actually bring the dead back to life, the thought of seeing Lily and even Albus again was impossible to ignore.

"Severus?" Minerva tried to get his attention and failed. "Severus," she repeated, louder and this time, he blinked up at her as if he'd been startled from a trance.

"It's still technically yours, isn't it, Harry?" Remus asked him, "Didn't Dumbledore leave it to you...in the snitch?"

"Yes...well, if it was even his to leave to me in the first place, but I don't want it," Harry shook his head. "I dropped it in the forest. I thought it was best if it never gets used again."

"Not an easy choice to make, I'm sure," Minerva said to him, sympathetically.

Before anyone could say anything else, Severus disapparated, leaving them all too stunned to move.

* * *

A second later, Severus was standing in the Shrieking Shack, staring down at the stone in his hand, he clutched it in his long fingers and waited. Then, without pomp or ceremony of any kind, he was suddenly joined by the first two people who'd ever cared anything for him in the world; Lily Potter and Albus Dumbledore. The only two people beyond the Veil that he truly missed.

They looked so real that it was almost possible to forget that they were dead. Lily looked so alive, so radiant and Albus looked just as powerful as he always had, his hand wasn't even cursed and his blue eyes were striking even in the dark.

"Hi, Sev," Lily smiled at him.

After all the years he'd spent wondering just what he'd say to her if he ever got the chance, for all the fact that he was renowned for his eloquence, for once, words failed him.

"Ah, Severus, my brave boy...I'd hug you if I could," Albus said, happily. "I know you dislike physical affection, but I must confess that I have greatly missed you," he said, gently reaching out to place his hand on Severus's shoulder.

Then, Severus found out why Albus couldn't hug him. The aged hand went straight though him, sending a shiver down his spine and the old wizard raised his raised his hand slightly so that it was hovering in the air just above the black clad shoulder. "Apologies," Albus whispered, and then stood back a little.

Severus had managed to progress to a point in his life now that he didn't weep uncontrollably at Halloween, neither did he drink himself into oblivion on the anniversary of Albus' death but it hadn't been easy. He'd always miss them both and the guilt he felt at their deaths was still there. Seeing them now was perhaps not his best idea and it brought back years of guilt and sadness that he couldn't repress.

Lily had died because of him and he had personally killed Albus. Nothing he'd done in the past and nothing he did in the future would ever change either of those facts. He'd go to his grave a murderer and he thought he'd at least come to accept that fact even if he'd never like it.

"I..." he breathed, trying to control his emotions. It was proving much more difficult than usual. His famed Occlumency shields, which were used to hide away his emotions, were on the verge of shattering into a thousand tiny pieces, threatening to take his iron clad control with them.

"Severus?" Albus tried to look through the curtain of long black hair which was obscuring the current headmasters' pale face. "Look at me...please," Albus pleaded but Severus just shook his head.

"I'm so sorry," Severus managed to say to them before he started to weep. "I'm sorry, Albus," he said, still hiding his face as tears fell from his closed eyes.

Despite seeing the man's portrait near enough every day, despite talking to him nearly every day, seeing the old wizard actually standing in front of him was different. He really hadn't expected it to be, but it was. It was even worse that he couldn't even touch him. Albus was always so demonstrative, be it a gentle hand on his shoulder or a soothing touch on his arm when the Dark Mark had burned, or even kind fingers raking through his hair when he was convulsing in agony on a hospital bed after a Death Eater meeting which had ended in torture. Albus, like any Gryffindor, wore his heart on his sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, Lily," Severus continued, "For everything...it was all my fault...all of it...the prophecy...you..."

"You made a mistake," Lily said, moving closer to him.

"If I'd listened to you...you warned me about them...and I didn't listen."

"You're stubborn," she said, fondly.

"How can you bear to look at me?" he asked, looking at her with eyes full of tears. "Are you even real?" he asked.

"Right now, I'm as real as you," Lily answered. "And I can look at you...because you're my friend. You always were and you always will be."

"But it's my fault you're..."

"Maybe, maybe not. He would have come after us at some point. We'd been openly opposing him and his followers. Maybe that's why he saw Harry as a threat...because we were too reckless."

"Now I know you're not real," Severus cried, "The real Lily would never say that."

"We're real enough, I believe," Albus remarked and watched sadly as the younger wizard shook his head in despair.

Severus leant back against the wall and looked away from them as he fell to the ground, sitting on the dirty wooden floorboards. He'd died in here once already and now it felt as though he was dying again, emotionally rather than physically this time. He wasn't quite sure which one was worse.

"...Should've known better..." Severus scoffed to himself. "Of course you're not real," he said, looking up at them.

"If we're not real, how would I know that my mum taught you to play the piano or that you could pick locks by the time you were six or that you used to smoke or..." Lily listed, desperately.

"Because you're..."

"Or you had your ear pieced at one point just because your dad told you not to and you hated it anyway, or you don't like chocolate unless it's chocolate orange..."

"Clearly..." Severus took a deep breath, "You are...figments...from my mind. You know...what I know and you tell me...what I want to hear."

"Well, you won't want to hear this," the red head put her hands on her hips. "You were stupid to join the Death Eaters in the first place. You knew what you were doing was wrong but you did it anyway. You were angry and scared...but that's no excuse."

As she spoke, Severus rested his head back against the wall, a look of resignation on his face. "You've done horrible things," Lily said, "And you hurt me...you joined the group that wanted to murder people like me just because of who my parents were."

"I never cared about blood purity..."

"But you still joined them knowing that that's what they believed. And you hurt me. I thought you were my friend and I was trying to help you back then. I tried to make you see sense but you...you called me..."

"...I was angry," he muttered, weakly.

"I know," she said, her anger seemingly fading away. "And I shouldn't have turned you away like that. Maybe if I hadn't...things would've been different," she said, kneeling beside him.

"No...they wouldn't," Severus sighed. "I'm...so sorry," he reiterated, "I'm sorry I ever called you...that name and I'm sorry that my actions lead to your...death."

"And I forgive you," Lily said, "If you forgive me for not accepting your apology all those years ago."

"You were right not to."

"No," she disagreed, "We were stupid children. Both of us. You're not a bad person, Sev," she told him, smiling, "You just forget it sometimes."

"You know everything I've done?" he asked and she nodded. He didn't think to question why or how she knew, she just did and that was enough. "Then how can you say that?" he demanded, "I've done...terrible things."

"Yes, you have," Albus nodded. "But you regret them and you went above and beyond to make amends. You gave your life to set things right. A lesser man wouldn't have done that."

"I killed you," Severus breathed, trying to calm himself. "You were the only person to give me a chance...and I killed you," he said.

"Because I gave you no choice. There are a great many things I regret myself and that is one of them. I always asked too much of you but you always delivered, no matter what."

"I..."

"You know this already, but I don't hold you responsible for my death," Albus continued. "It was my own fault. When I touched that cured ring I signed my death warrant and you were well aware of it. You did what was necessary when I no longer could."

"You're not responsible for my death, either," Lily said. "You didn't kill me or James. We didn't have to stay and fight. We chose to," she explained, "I could have escaped that night. He gave me the chance to stand aside while he killed Harry but I didn't. I couldn't."

"I begged him to spare you. He probably thought he was being generous because I was the one who told him the prophecy in the first place, so he...Well...it doesn't matter, it was still my fault. I only told him so that I could improve my own standing in his ranks. I didn't know that it meant **your** son at first...but I still knew that someone would die and I didn't care. I only defected because of you," Severus admitted, "If it had been someone else...anyone else...I'd never have left him."

"You don't know that," she said and he shook his head at her. "You **don't** ," she insisted.

"I'm not a good man," Severus sighed.

"Maybe not, but as Lily has already said, quite correctly, you're not a bad one either," Albus said, "People are far more complicated than that and nothing is ever quite that simple."

"I'm sorry," Severus repeated. He'd lost count of how many times he'd apologised to them but he had to make it count. They had to see that he was truly sorry even if he couldn't change what he'd done.

"I know," Lily smiled at him, "And I forgive you."

Severus could only stare at her in disbelief, his usual emotionless mask had been cast aside in the face of her forgives. "I forgive you, Sev," she repeated.

"I loved you," he admitted, quietly.

"...I know," Lily said, sadly.

"I always will."

"Sev...you're my friend...and I loved you too, but..."

"I...understand," he said, his silent tears still falling, "I knew you'd never...you loved Potter. I'm not a fool."

"Sev, please..." she pleaded.

"Don't," Severus said, "Just don't. I just...I had to tell you, at least once."

"I'm s..."

"No, you're not," he stopped her before she could apologise. "And that's alright," he said, taking a deep breath to try and stop crying. "You were my friend...before I ruined it all. That's more than I deserved," he added.

"You deserved a better friend," Lily protested.

"So did you," he countered.

But now, he'd gotten his tears under control but it felt as though the slightest thing could set him off again. He gently wiped his eyes and looked at them again. "How long...does this...last?" he asked, running his thumb over the stone in his hand.

"As long as you're holding the stone," Albus answered, "But...like the Mirror of Erised...it's not wise to let these things linger. You must let us go, Severus."

"I...can't."

"You'll see us again," the old man assured him, "Although I hope...and please don't glare at me for saying this...I hope, that it's not for a very long time. Live your life, my boy. You've earned it more than most. You were doing a fairly good job before this...headmaster," he said, smiling.

"Headmaster Snape," Lily said, "Has a nice ring to it."

"It does, doesn't it," Albus agreed.

"You're both...mad," Severus said, managing to smile ruefully.

"...One day, you **will** see us again," Albus said kindly after a moment, "Just promise me one thing. This is the last thing I'll ever ask of you."

"...What?" Severus asked, resigned.

"Don't keep looking back. You have a good life now. You have good friends. You have a remarkable family. You're not alone. There **are** people who care about you. Don't torment yourself with the past anymore," the old man practically begged him.

"Easier said...than done."

"I know," Albus said, "I..."

"I...can't keep it, can I?" Severus asked, unclenching his fingers from around the stone.

"It would not be advisable, no."

"I miss you...both of you," he admitted and they knew how difficult it was for him to say such a thing, even if they were merely figments of his imagination.

"This is not the way to remember us," Albus said. "Let go of the stone, Severus," he added, quietly.

"Not yet," Severus replied, still staring at it, "Just...one more minute."

* * *

About five minutes later, the door was thrown wide open to admit Minerva leading the way, no doubt with a 'Point Me' spell lighting her wand and the others following behind her.

Severus was still sat against the wall but the Resurrection Stone lay by his side on the floor and he was no longer crying. His eyes were still slightly red, so clearly he had been and he took a deep breath as they all entered the room.

"Am I to assume...that you are **not**...figments?" he asked.

"Figments?" Minerva frowned, confused. She lowered her wand now that they'd found him and shivered. It was warmer outside than it was in the Shack even though it was night and so therefore, quite cool outside. "We are not figments, no," she said, patiently, "Are you alright?"

She and Poppy knelt on either side of him while the mediwitch quietly performed a medical scan with her wand.

"He's not injured," Poppy reported a moment later.

"Not physically," Remus said, picking up the Resurrection Stone in a handkerchief from his pocket. He didn't want to touch it and run the risk of being tormented by the souls of the dead as Severus so obviously had done. In theory, if it didn't touch his skin, then it couldn't be used, at least that's what he hoped.

"He used it," Harry sighed, knowingly.

"They're...gone," Severus muttered.

"They?" Minerva asked him and he just nodded once. She placed a hand on his forearm and she could feel that he was cold even through the thick layers he always wore. He seemed to be genuinely surprised that she was able to touch him where the apparitions conjured by the stone hadn't been able to. So evidently, they were real. "It's freezing here. Come on, let's go back to the castle where it's warm," Minerva said to him, kindly.

Severus sighed and seemed to consider the idea for a moment before he pushed himself up off the ground, aided by his ever present mother hens, Poppy and Minerva. He was shaking slightly, presumably from the cold since it tended to aggravate his old wounds.

"Can you Apparate?" the deputy headmistress asked him and again, he nodded. "You go on ahead, we'll see you back there..."

She hadn't even finished her sentence before they all found themselves back in Severus' warm sitting room. The headmaster himself was slumped in his chair and Poppy threw up her hands in frustration.

"Of all the reckless...irresponsible..." she furrowed her brow.

One of the perks of being the headmaster was that Severus could manipulate the Apparition wards which he'd just done to allow himself to transport more than one person without touching them. A draining task and not generally a good idea but it seemed to be a night for bad ideas.

"You're welcome," he grumbled as he shifted in his chair so that he was more comfortable.

"As thoughtful as that was," Minerva said, "Was it really the best idea?"

"Probably not," Severus admitted.

"Here, Harry," Remus handed him the stone, still wrapped in his clean handkerchief. "It's yours," be explained.

"What're you going to do with it?" Pomona asked.

"...I think...I'll destroy it," Harry answered, heavily.

"That's probably best," Remus nodded.

"It doesn't make people happy...it doesn't bring back the dead, it just..." the younger wizard trailed off, looking at the despondent Severus. "It just shows you what you've lost," he sighed.

"A cruel trick," Severus said, "They weren't even real."

"They look real...even if they're not," Harry insisted, "That's what's so cruel."

* * *

Severus was grateful that they didn't ask him any questions after that and they seemed to understand his need for silence for the rest of the evening. When they were gone, Minerva stayed behind with him, watching him sympathetically.

"Are you really alright?" she asked him.

"...I will be," he replied with rare honesty.

It was generally only on the occasision that something truly dreadful had happened that Severus was honest about his emotions. Minerva learned to appreciate those times and to value the fact that he'd come to trust her enough to be so open with her. Trust didn't come easy to Severus, understandably, and it had taken years for her to earn his to such a degree.

"What happened? Who did you see?"

"Albus," he answered, "And...Lily. They looked...so real. So alive."

"I understand why you did it," Minerva said, "Merlin knows there's enough people I miss enough to want to see them again, but...it doesn't being them back."

"No."

"We don't even know if what you see with it is real."

"No," he repeated, staring into the flames burning in the grate. "But...he...wasn't angry with me and she...forgave me," Severus said after a moment. "They told me...almost everything I'd ever wanted to hear. Surely...if they were merely figments...she would have said **everything** I'd wanted to hear...she would've told me that she..." he trailed off.

Minerva sighed and stood from her chair. She walked over to him and tapped her wand against his glass tumbler. She vanished the scotch and filled it with water instead. Severus drank enough when he was maudlin and she hated to encouraged his drinking when he was depressed.

"We can't prove if what the stone shows people is real or not," she told him again. "But I think...I knew Lily well enough to know that she would have forgiven you and I know that Albus cared for you greatly. As we care for you now...you do know that, don't you?" she asked.

"I believe...you may have mentioned it...once or twice," he replied with just a trace of his usual sarcasm.

"Yes, because I feel the need to remind you on occasion when you act as though you're hated."

"Habit," Severus grumbled, feeling like a child being scolded.

"Even if I live to be two hundred years old, I'll break that habit of yours. You mark my words, Severus," she said, confidently.

He could only scoff at her as she smiled the same smile she always had at times like this and he had to admit, the thought that people actually cared about him, was a nice one. He'd never get used it even if he himself lived to be two hundred years old, let alone Minerva.

* * *

A.N. I read that the stone was lost in the forest somewhere and so I don't think it's completely unreasonable for it to have been found again after so many years.


	55. 4th December 1999

Visiting Lucius

4th December 1999

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was in an even worse state than Severus Snape was and **that** was saying something. Severus was having daily attacks of pain now and sometimes they lasted for over ten minutes which left him too weak to do anything but rest for the remainder of the day. However, at least Severus had access to round the clock medical care, even if it wasn't always effective. Lucius had no such thing; he was a prisoner and prisoners in the Wizarding world had no rights at all, despite the recent reforms, and therefore he had no medical care whatsoever. Reform didn't tend to happen overnight afterall.

Minerva and Remus were standing in Lucius' dreary prison cell watching the pale, emaciated wizard curl in on himself like a small child as he fought to hold back his own cries of pain just as surely as Severus was doing in Hogwarts. He was haggard and gaunt, wearing tattered, dirty clothing and so contrary to the wizard that he always portrayed himself as, that it took a moment for his visitors to get over the shock.

"What...are you...doing here?" the wizard managed to hiss through his clenched teeth. It took him about a minute before he was able to rest back against the wall when the tremors had stopped and he was breathing heavily. "Is Severus..." he trailed off.

"He's alive," Remus told him.

"Then...why..."

"He's dying," Minerva stated, sadly.

"As am...I."

"We've been trying to save him," Remus told the wizard.

"I know...he told me...a while ago, actually. You're not very good at keeping...secrets from him."

They didn't exactly look surprised that Severus had known about their plans. The man was an ex spy after all.

"If you know anything that can help," Remus said, "We'd very much appreciate it."

"He did tell me...something..." Lucius ground out.

"What?!" Minerva demanded.

"You must...give your word...when you have saved Severus," the blonde spoke, "You will save me."

"Yes, fine, fine," Remus agreed quickly.

"Your...word," Lucius demanded and grit his teeth when the pain started up again.

"You have our word," Minerva sighed. She didn't like it at all, but they didn't have much time left and any information they could get would be useful.

"He told me not to tell you," Lucius said. "Said you'd...come snooping around about this...at some point. He's too...clever for his own good," he managed to scoff, "But then...why would he tell me...in the first place...if he didn't want you to know? I don't think...he thought we'd last this long...with the Mark. Neither did I..."

"What did he tell you?" Remus reiterated.

"Potter," the blonde spat, "Potter can...save us...has to be him...something about...blood."

"Voldemort used Harry's blood," Remus exclaimed after a moment and Lucius nodded.

"Therefore..." Lucius prompted him.

"Harry can...remove the Mark?" the werewolf surmised.

"With the...Dark Lord's wand...but there's no removal spell. Severus...gave up on...the idea...as soon as he found it. Don't know...why he told me, really."

"Can you make one?" Minerva asked him and he laughed suddenly.

"With what?" the blonde snorted, inelegantly, "I've no resources, no wand and no power left...He's probably in a...better condition than me."

"Then **we'll** make the spell," Remus said.

"You're not experts in Dark Magic."

"We'll learn."

"Foolish...words...spoken by a fool," Lucius retorted.

"Would you rather die?" Minerva countered.

"I'll die anyway, no matter what you do. You won't go through...with this...once you know..." Lucius broke off again as he clutched at his chains and let out a hoarse cry.

"Know what?" the witch demanded.

"Argh...you'll have to figure some things out...for...for yourselves..." Lucius panted. "All you need to know is...the boy...the wand...and a spell that doesn't exist. Simple enough. Save Severus and then save me...you gave your word...He'll make you save me anyway."

"I know," Minerva admitted, "But we gave our word and to some people, that means something."

"Ouch," Lucius mocked her, "I'm rather getting the feeling...that you don't like me very much."

"I wonder why," Remus muttered.

"Yes, me too, especially when one considers that you seem to like Severus very much," Lucius said, the pain clearly fading again. It left him weak but at least he was able to speak a little better. "For all the fact that he was...a spy...he still committed the same crimes as I did. For every reason that you hate me, you should hate **him**...and yet from what I've been told...you've befriended him!"

"And that's funny?" Remus blinked watching the man laugh despite the lingering pain he was in.

"Yes!" Lucius exclaimed, "It is...although I don't get much in the way of entertainment here and Severus doesn't do jokes. He doesn't understand you people and I confess, neither do I. You hated him all this time and now suddenly, he's a saint."

"He's **no** saint," Minerva replied, quickly.

"Oh, I know," the blonde said, gravely, "If you knew half the things he's done..."

"We know enough," Remus said.

"You really **are** a fool, aren't you? But...it works in my favour if it ultimately saves my life."

"Do you know anything else?" Minerva asked, in a brusque manner.

"I know that once he finds out I've told you about this...he'll kill me."

"You didn't tell us much of anything," she said.

"I mentioned Potter," Lucius shrugged, "That's enough for you to figure out the rest. But bear in mind...you don't have much time. Or rather, Severus and I...don't have much time."

"We **are** aware of that," Minerva sighed.

"So...you're very likely to be my last visitors...unless you actually manage to succeed. I don't imagine that Severus is in any fit state to visit me now. As much as it pains me to have to ask you people for anything..." Lucius grimaced, "I want you to deliver a message...to my wife."

"...Go on," she said. As much as she disliked the man, she couldn't deny him his last message to his wife, she wasn't heartless after all. How she'd actually be able to send the message was another matter since Narcissa and Draco were being kept under lock and key by the Ministry.

"Tell her...the third portrait from the left," he said, cryptically.

"That's it?" Remus asked, confused.

"What were you expecting, a sonnet? She'll know what it means."

"Very well," Minerva nodded, though she was just as confused as Remus was. "Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy," she added before they left him alone again.


	56. 2nd December 1999

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

2nd December 1999

* * *

Severus Snape was drinking, perhaps a little too much, but there were several days in the year when he simply couldn't help it. One was the day on which Lilly had died, but more often than not he'd been forced to abscond from drinking in favour of appearing at the feast on Albus' orders. A second day marked the anniversary that he'd taken the Dark Mark and a third fell on the day on which he had killed Albus. And now that the Dark Mark was causing him increasing amounts of pain, he tended to self medicate with alcohol since conventional pain relievers did nothing for him. The only problem was, aside from the possibility of a hangover, was that it proved difficult to keep his emotions in check even with his impressive use of Occlumency under the influence of too much alcohol. Minerva had already discovered this so she wasn't exactly surprised by what she saw that night, at least not about his slightly more emotional state anyway.

* * *

"Severus?" the deputy headmistress called out as she entered his office.

She found the room empty and the portraits were devoid of their inhabitants as well as Fawkes' vacant perch she began to think that something was amiss. The portraits never left the office all at the same time, it was tantamount to leaving the headmaster alone and they were extremely loyal to Severus and not just because they were magically bound to be, either.

Minerva knocked on the door to the sitting room and opened it even though she got no answer. "Severus?" she inquired, squinting into the dark. She lit her wand and frowned uneasily at what she saw.

The headmaster was sitting on the floor leaning against the stone of the unlit fireplace with an empty bottle of vodka at his feet. His left shirt sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, revealing the Dark Mark which was, as always, striking against his pale skin. The room itself looked as though it had been ransacked; the furniture was overturned, the curtains were closed haphazardly against the moonlight, the lamps had been shattered and the bookcases were knocked over with the precious books scattered all over the floor. Severus didn't value much in his life but she knew that he valued his books. For him to have treated them in such a way was simply unheard of.

"What on earth..." Minerva breathed as she stepped gingerly into the room, watching where she put her feet so that her robes didn't catch and cause her to fall.

"Go...away," Severus muttered, his voice hoarse and quiet.

"What have you...I mean...why would you...your books, Severus?!" she lamented, throwing up her hands in frustration as she stared at the fallen books.

"Yes...my...books...bloody things..."

She summoned the bottle that lay at his feet and then vanished it. "I've never known you to drink vodka," she remarked.

He just shrugged silently as she continued to make her way over to him and when she finally made it, she righted an armchair and sat in it so that she was close enough to touch him.

"Now, why on earth are you drinking vodka, alone, in your quarters in the dark?" she asked him, patiently.

"Well, quite obviously...I'm not alone," he replied, "For some...reason...you're here."

"Yes, because...well, it doesn't really matter now, you're in no fit state to discuss anything," Minerva sighed.

"If I can...brief Albus after a Death Eater meeting with...four broken ribs...internal bleeding and a broken leg... **and** Cruciatus damage...I'm sure I can..."

"No."

"Fine," he grumbled. He seemed quite lucid, at least in his opinion, considering the fact that he'd been drinking all night. "Drink?" he offered after a moment.

"In this case, I'd have to say no," Minerva answered and gave a slight wave of her wand. A second later, a small glass vial appeared in her hand and she gave it to him. "You'll need this," she said.

"Doesn't work."

"How can it not work? It's one of your own brews," she said.

"On me...it doesn't work...on me. Makes me...ill."

"Why on earth would a Sober up Potion make you ill?"

"Too much...wrong with me. Too much...damage now."

"Damage?"

"...In...ternal..." he stretched out the word and then released a deep, shaky sigh. "Besides, I'm not drunk. Not yet..." he said. He then rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"How much vodka **did** you drink?"

"...One glass...five...who knows?" he answered.

"Well, then, I suppose you'll just have to sleep it off," Minerva said.

"Would...if I could sleep," Severus grumbled.

"Is it the Mark?" she asked, looking down at his arm. The Mark itself was coiling on his skin and emitting faint hissing noises as though it somehow knew that it was being discussed.

"Hmmm," he nodded and then winced.

"Severus," Minerva said. She slid out of her chair and knelt in front of him. "I swear...we **will** find a way to save you," she said with confidence.

"Liar," he accused.

"Worse than that, I'm afraid," she retorted, smiling. "Gryffindor," she added.

He gave her an exasperated scoff and then abruptly turned away, hiding his face as the Mark hissed louder in defiance and sent a jolt of agony running through him. He shivered uncontrollably for a moment and tensed as he clenched his jaw shut to hold back his screams.

"...Not...again..." she heard him ground out through his teeth.

Minerva bravely placed her hand over the Dark Mark and recited the incantation of the spell he'd finally told her about to vanish the pain. Unfortunately, it was all but useless now and it barely dulled the agony anymore after so much time and nearly constant use.

"...D...doesn't...work..." he somehow managed to tell her.

Minerva sighed, her cool fingers still grasping his shaking forearm. "You're cold," she observed and lit the fire without even a wave of her wand.

"...Can't...get warm...anymore."

"Here," she said, summoning a thick blanket and some cushions. She arranged them on the old hearth rug which she cleared with another spell and somehow, she even made it feel comfortable as she gently guided him to lie down.

"Don't...mother me," he said in an attempt to sound menacing, but he failed.

"Shhhh," Minerva hushed him. She rested his head on a soft pile of cushions and brushed his hair back from his face.

Then, with one hand still touching the Mark, she waved her wand over the room and set all the damage he'd done to rights. The room was perfectly spotless and lit by soft lamp light in less than thirty seconds but when it was finished, Severus was still shivering both from cold and from pain.

"I'm sure the floor won't do your back any favours despite my best efforts to fix this old rug, but once this has...passed, I'll help you to your room. Merlin knows, you're in no condition to Apparate," she explained.

"...Don't need a..."

"Hush, Severus," Minerva stopped him.

"You can't...still believe you can...help me..." he said with great effort. His hands clutched at the luxurious blanket she had conjured for him as he threw his head back into the mountain of cushions and closed his eyes. He couldn't quite stop a small, feeble sounding whimper from escaping his lips now.

"Of course I do," she replied with a calmness that he was grateful for. Had it been anyone else in her position, they'd probably have been frantically calling for the matron by now, but she knew, like Poppy and Severus himself, that her medicine could not help him. All she could do was sit with him and ignore his attempts to drive her away. It got easier, she had noticed, to ignore the vitriol he frequently spewed if one just took notice of his actions and not his words.

The age old platitude of actions speaking louder than words could have been written for Severus Snape.

"Stubborn...woman," he scoffed. "Just...go away," he said at the same time as he grabbed her hand and squeezed as he tensed up again. He might not have even realised he was doing it in his desperation, but she didn't mind at all.

"I don't think so, Severus, I'm afraid you're stuck with me," Minerva said, soothingly. She placed her other hand over his and ignored the fact that he was still quite strong enough to bruise her despite the long months of the Mark sapping his strength.

"Then...you're fired...now...leave."

"You can't give me orders if I'm fired," she counted.

"I..." Severus began to say but stopped when a tortured cry came from him before he could stop it. It had taken him by surprise and he hadn't had a chance to prepare himself.

"I'm sorry," she told him, "I'm sorry I can't help you."

After a few minutes, Severus seemed to relax a little and he released an uneven breath as the pain started to fade. He was left feeling feeble and drained, unable to even open his eyes now, not that he wanted to see the pity that would no doubt be visible in her own.

"It's fading?" Minerva asked and he managed a barely perceptible nod. "They're getting worse...these attacks," she said, needlessly.

"Mmmm," he hummed, not trusting his aching vocal chords enough to speak.

"Can you move?" she asked. His silence and stillness was answer enough for her. "We'll find something...there has to be something to stop this," she said, carding her fingers through his hair, soothingly.

"...Isn't..."

"Yes, there is, there **must** be and if there isn't, we'll make one."

"There's...one thing..."

"What?" Minerva asked, eagerly.

"Put me...out of my...misery," Severus replied, forcing his eyes open.

"What?! No!" she exclaimed.

"Think of it...as...a...mercy killing..." he said.

"No, Severus. I won't. I **can't** kill you."

"I killed Albus...you kill me...poetic justice."

"No," she repeated, stunned by his suggestion.

"Look at me," Severus breathed. "I'm dying anyway...I've lasted longer than I...thought I would and...Lucius doesn't have...much longer left either. We're the last ones...with the Mark, I think."

"I still won't do it."

"Even if it spares my suffering?"

"I **can't** ," she reiterated and he sighed. "I'm...sorry," Minerva added.

Severus just shook his head as he began to shift under the blanket, trying to sit up. It took him a great deal of effort and some help from Minerva, which he grudgingly accepted, but he managed it.

"You need to rest," Minerva said. "Come on," she said, helping him stand up on weak legs. She gently brought one of his arms to rest over her shoulders and she walked him through into his bedroom to let him sit down on the grand four poster bed. "I don't think...you can keep working like this," she added.

"What choice is there? Everyone knows that the Death Eaters are dying...even if they don't know why. If I suddenly come down with a mystery illness..."

"To hell with what everyone else thinks!" she said. "It can't be doing you any good to keep pushing yourself. I can manage by myself and in the meantime, you rest."

"While you...work on this cure of yours," Severus scoffed.

"Yes," Minerva nodded.

"Stubborn foolishness can only get you so far," he told her.

"I disagree."

"Clearly."

"Now...go to sleep and don't even think about attending the hall for breakfast in the morning. You need rest."

"So you've said," he muttered, resting back against the pillows with a quiet sigh. "There's no...shame...in admitting defeat," he told her, "Not for a Slytherin. We know when we've been beat."

"You're not beaten. Not yet."

"Look at me, Minerva. I'd be hard pressed to cast a simple 'Lumos,' the way I feel," he ground out and she knew just how difficult it had to be for him to admit that. He was a proud man, not to mention a powerful wizard and to have his magic hindered in such a way was no doubt very mortifying and embarrassing.

"That's why we're here," she said, "To do those things for you."

Severus let out a groan of frustration and rolled his eyes at her. "It's okay to rely on us, Severus. We're your friends and we want to help you," she told him, kindly.

"You can only do so much."

"We'll see about that."


	57. 12th August 2007

Another Wolf

12th August 2007

* * *

Assistant Professor Harry Potter had been teaching at Hogwarts for a year when he learned about a young witch called Rebecca Northcote. She had just turned eleven and should have received her Hogwarts letter but the Ministry had forbidden it on the grounds that she was a werewolf. Just before the war had ended almost a decade ago, Rebecca had been a baby but she had been attacked and infected. She had been registered as a werewolf since then but because of that, the Ministry refused to allow her to attend school. Her parents were magical, but because no one wanted to hire the mother and father of a werewolf, they were forced to work in the muggle world to earn a living. They'd written to Remus Lupin, a known war hero and werewolf and Remus in turn had gone to Severus.

Harry thought the whole story quite tragic and he'd agreed to accompany Remus so now, they were both sat in front of the headmaster's desk. Severus often stayed at the castle in the weeks before the start of term because he enjoyed the peace and quiet. Even if there wasn't a staff meeting, he could often be found wandering the halls or working at his desk even though Albus' portrait frequently scolded him for it.

"I know it's short notice, Severus..." Remus sighed as Severus put down the letter.

"Is this meant to tug at my non existent heart strings?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I..."

"I cannot overrule the Ministry's decision."

"You've done it before," Harry remarked. "You hired Remus," he said and the eyes of Albus Dumbledore's portrait gleamed and he smiled down at the be-speckled wizard.

"And I **still** receive angry worded letters from parents and the board of Governors about it."

"She's just a child, she deserves a chance to be like everyone else..." Remus said.

"She **isn't** like everyone else," Severus interrupted him. "She's a registered werewolf. What do you think her years here will be like when everyone learns about that fact? Not to mention the danger..."

"You brew the Wolfsbane for me, surely..."

"That won't stop..."

"It's not her fault she's a werewolf!" Remus said, uncharacteristically angry. There were too many parallels with his own childhood struggle for him to be calm about it. It was only because of Albus Dumbledore's defiance of the Ministry that he'd been able to attend Hogwarts at all and he wouldn't deny the same opportunity to another child simply because of a condition they couldn't control.

"It's not yours either," Harry told him, placatingly. "It'll be risky but if she's given the potion every month, there shouldn't be any danger, right? And besides...I think I've heard people say here that Hogwarts has a long standing tradition of ignoring the Ministry," he said to Severus.

"I think it's a splendid idea," Albus smiled.

" **You** brought a werewolf to the school once before, Albus and it nearly cost me my life," Severus said, turning round to glare at him.

"And yet, my dear boy, **you** brought him back."

Severus pursed his lip, unable to deny it as the old man continued to practically radiate happiness from his frame.

"I'll take responsibility if anything happens," Remus insisted.

"How would you do that when it's clearly my decision as headmaster?" Severus grumbled.

"I..."

"Regardless, it will need to be discussed in the staff meeting next week," he interrupted Remus.

"Thank you, Severus."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet, Lupin."

"No, but thank you anyway," the werewolf said.


	58. Midnight 24th December 1981

A Precarious Agreement

Midnight 24th December 1981

* * *

After the first fall of Voldemort two months ago, Severus Snape, along with the other Death Eaters had been quickly tried and condemned to Azkaban. It took Albus Dumbledore far longer than he liked, one month to be precise, to convince the Ministry to free Severus and then it took another month for the man to recover from his imprisonment. There, the Potioneer had been condemned to isolation with only a malicious Dementor for company. Severus had been convinced that he was going to die there so now, it seemed surreal to be walking the Hogwarts grounds in the snow.

The castle was deserted as not a single student had remained there for the holidays following the end of the war and Severus was relieved. It allowed him to walk out on the grounds without having to avoid joyful students running around in the snow. He'd been spending his time generally avoiding all human contact and conversation for the last month and he'd done a very good job of it.

That was, until, after about twenty minutes outside, he saw the headmaster walking over to him wearing a ridiculously patterned cloak and hat, which would probably make anyone else laugh hysterically. But not Severus.

"Poppy will not be happy to find you outside, Severus," Albus said to him but the younger wizard didn't reply. "She claims that you're the worst patient she's ever had, you know," he added with a twinkle in his tired eyes. "I can't help but feel that you've rather been avoiding us," he added after a moment.

"Clearly, **you** can't take a hint like everyone else," Severus retorted.

"Clearly not, no," Albus said, staring at the younger wizard with piercing blue eyes.

Severus was still clearly in mourning for Lilly Potter and likely would be for some time but not only that, he was still visibly weak and Albus had spent many a night watching over the man's bedside as he slept fitfully. It had taken him by surprise that over the last few months, that he and Severus had gone from a truce built upon necessity to something resembling real trust - even if he had failed Severus in the sense that the Potter's were dead and the man himself had been imprisoned.

"I have to admit, I've missed our conversations," Albus remarked.

"I have nothing to report, there **is** nothing to report on any more."

"There will be. But that wasn't what I meant."

"What other conversations have we had that you could possibly miss?" Severus scoffed at him. "Our late night, sleep deprived and now foolish attempts at protecting the people that I myself doomed? Do you miss those, perhaps?" he mocked.

"You know that wasn't what I meant. I feel their loss too and I am arguably more to blame than you yourself," Albus said, sadly.

Severus scoffed at him and glared for a moment. "Did you follow me out here to make sure that I hadn't fled now that I'm of no use to you?" he demanded.

"No, of course not. I was concerned for you. I **have** been concerned for you for some time. I feared that you would not recover. I am...truly sorry, Severus," Albus sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I'm sorry that you were left there for..."

"It doesn't matter," Severus interrupted him.

"But it does. What was done to your mind was..."

"Don't mention it...any of it...ever again."

"...Very well," the old man agreed, clearly reluctantly. "Incidentally, your Occlumency shields are quite possibly the most impressive I've seen in all my years," he began after a moment in an attempt at cheerfulness. "It's especially surprising in a wizard so young. Minerva and Poppy certainly couldn't believe it when I failed to break through them for those first few weeks."

"Because the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore is infallible," Severus sneered.

"The not so great or powerful Albus Dumbledore is still required to rest after all his efforts to get through to your mind," Albus said, his eyes twinkling. "Quite instinctive to you, isn't it?" he asked, "It took me decades to learn. I was quite impatient in my youth and it rather frustrated me at the time."

"I had...an effective tutor," the younger wizard said, carefully.

"Might I enquiry as to the methods this tutor used?"

"No."

"Ah, what a pity. It could enlighten young minds everywhere."

"Not likely."

"Well, if you insist," Albus relented. "However...enlightening young minds is what I intended to discuss with you at some point," he said. "You are a free man by all rights..." the Potions Master snorted at him but it didn't seem to deter Albus.

"I've already agreed to protect the Potter boy when...if...the Dark Lord returns..."

"And in the meantime, I think it wisest that you remain here as a teacher."

"Hasn't it been made clear to you in my short term here that teaching is not in my nature?"

"Perhaps not. But what other choice is there? When Voldemort..."

"Don't say his name," Snape's hissed, instinctively clutching at the Dark Mark on his arm.

"When Voldemort returns you must..."

"I know what I must do if the day comes and I am prepared for it. We've had this conversation before, you don't need to repeat it to me."

"Not exactly. We barely had time to discuss anything before you were arrested. What better way is there for you to protect Lily's son than this? Other than raising the child yourself?"

"No!" Severus objected, horrified.

"Then it's settled."

"I'm a convicted Death Eater. Even you might have a hard time convicting people that I'd make a good teacher."

"Well, I can be quite persuasive," Albus said, simply. "It's not going to be easy," he added, "A lesser man would have fled."

"To what? Where would I flee to?" Severus muttered, lowering his head, hiding behind strands of black hair.

"You'll stay?"

"...Yes," he sighed and Dumbledore nodded.

"It seems...rather reluctant but...in the spirit of the season...Happy Christmas, Severus," Albus smiled at him after a moment, just a little.

"Hmmm," Severus scoffed.

"Yes, you're not one for festive celebrations, are you? How foolish of me," the headmaster said in good humour and he rested a hand on Severus' shoulder. "Come back inside, a warm fire will work wonders on these cold days," he said.

Severus sighed but with little energy or will to protest, he allowed himself to be lead towards the castle which would become both like a prison to him, and surprisingly, a refuge as well in later years.


End file.
